Dream Lover
by Californiagirl2
Summary: The epilogue and one more dream.
1. Dream Lover

A short piece set between Human Shield and Two Ships told from Abby's POV. The show is so good right now; it makes writing tough! I want to thank as always the best beta reader in the world Katalyn and my cheerleader Claudia for their help and support with the story and with everything else as well. 

Disclaimers: The characters don't belong to me. There's a little colorful language, no explicit sex, but plenty of innuendo.

And, yes there may be a second part from Luka's POV.

Dream Lover 

I went to him. I didn't think I'd go. I didn't really mean to go. Or maybe I did. What kind of crap was that anyway? Didn't he care about the little girl? Didn't he care about me? Or was I still just the trophy in the pissing contest to be won or lost. . or given away – first as a woman, now as a resident. I half expected him to say, "Clemente can have you," as he left the trauma room. Well, damn him. Damn him, if I'll let him do that to me again.

I didn't go to him thinking we'd be lovers again. I went to show him who I am now, that he can't play games with me – not now, not again. Brandish his sword and walk away without a word, tell me he misses me at Susan's party, but can't remember the next day when he's sober . . Fuck that. Fuck him, well not literally.

I didn't know I wanted him to kiss me till his hands were on my face, and then I did. I didn't expect it to be like that full hard on my mouth and then so soft – like a question. But, when I looked into his eyes there was no question. I just knew. And, I knew he knew too. Of course the knowing was for the night – it always had been – it's hard to know in the daylight, especially with him.

It felt like we stood there for a long time, I'm sure it was just a few minutes, then he asked, "Abby?" I knew what he was asking, and I nodded and his mouth was on mine and his hands were .. . everywhere. He slipped my jacket off. The kiss went on and on until my knees gave out. He felt it too because he lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around him. He carried me. I don't know how because I don't think his mouth ever left mine. The next thing I knew I was under him and the kissing wasn't enough, and the clothes were a nuisance, for him too. He pulled away, started to unbutton his shirt. I tried to help but my fingers trembled too much. What am I, 15? He smiled, I blushed, and he finished the job himself. And then my own were gone. I'm not sure I've ever felt so naked. The way he looked at me. . . . ..

"Abby are you using . . . . .do I need to . . . ."

"No, I mean yes, I mean you should," he nodded. Thank God his brain hadn't shut down entirely as mine had done.

He made love to me then and yes, I was useless – a puddle of leftover emotions from the day and a torrent of new ones from the night. I don't think I've ever had another lover that .. . . . took such an .. . interest in my body. Not just the usual parts men take interest in – but all of it, loving to find the spot behind my ear that gave me shivers or the place behind my knee that tickled. That night it was like he was on a quest to find each one all over again and see if it elicited the same . . .reaction. It did. And, it brought tears to my eyes all over again to think that he remembered me that way – after all the years . . . he remembered.

After, as he held me, his fingers running through my hair, he finally spoke. "I'm sorry, Abby. Sorry about Sydney. Sorry I hurt you. Sorry . . . . "

It wasn't much, but he never was verbose. When I looked into his eyes, it was enough. I felt myself returning to my senses. I wanted him to know I remembered him too. So, I showed him. Words aren't always easy, and I didn't have any to give him. But I had other things to . . . . .offer. There's something about having a 6'4"man at your mercy . . . it's powerful. When he stopped me and pulled me onto him we were both trembling – at each other's mercy. Then we slept, a tangle of limbs.

I don't know what time it was when I woke feeling cold, he had rolled away from me in the night taking the blankets with him. Men. I used the bathroom and found one of his shirts to put on. I walked over to his side of the bed, his face lit in the light from the streetlamp. Damn he's gorgeous. For the first time in a long time, I wanted a smoke. I wanted to touch him, but I didn't feel I had the right. Is that crazy? We'd made love twice, and I couldn't touch him. I remembered the last time I felt that way, wanting to touch him, but not. He'd just come back from Africa. He wasn't mine, and I couldn't. I wanted him to show me that I could. _You held me before you left, show me you want to hold me again. Show me. I won't be the first to let go this time. Show me._ But he didn't, and so I didn't . . touch him. Show me now I thought, and I bent down picking up his clothes and moving them to the chair. The one part of him I could touch, crazy. I walked back for one more look, unsure. Show me. Maybe I said it out loud because right at that moment his hand reached out and grabbed my wrist. He said something in Croatian. I smiled because I remembered how when he's sleepy it comes out. "What?"

"Come to bed," he growled with a smile, and he pulled me at the same time. There I was in bed again and in the next second the shirt was gone.

That time it was like a dance, lovely, languid and sweet.

He looked into my eyes. "I missed you Abby."

"I missed you too." What color are those eyes? And then I slept again.

I was dreaming, and it was a dream about him, and he was kissing me, then he was inside me, and I caught my breath because this time it wasn't a dream. At least I don't think it was, but it was all so hazy and lovely and warm. But no, those were birds I heard and my name . . . . .. . .

The dreams began the night we broke up. They came and went for 4 years. I think it was worse to wake up after one next to . . .not him . . . . than by myself. Sometimes they were explainable – we'd worked together or something . . . sometimes they seemed to come out of nowhere. But I always woke up missing him and wanting to hit him and wanting to hold him . . . . .. They stopped for a while when I was drinking. Even when I was living with him, it wasn't the dreams that were the problem. It was the falling asleep when he happened to be there. I almost went to him one night. I made it to the bottom of the stairs before the image of him turning me out sent me back to the couch. If he was happy as friends, then I wasn't going to be the one to make the first move. When I stopped drinking, the dreams came back, even lying next to Carter they came back. The most real was the night of Susan's party. I woke up saying his name, and I was never so grateful that Carter had the night shift. Carter might have been better off if I'd kept drinking with the girls. It's a joke. _"Is that what this is about?" No. It wasn't a lie there were a truckload of issues – but it didn't help._

The worst was when he was in Africa, even after I heard he'd been killed. Then I'd wake up and start to cry, miserable with it all especially with myself. Why didn't I tell him? Tell him what, Abby? I never knew. Or maybe I did. Med school killed the dreams for a time, not enough REM sleep. But, they came back. Maybe that's what made me so eager for Jake even when the writing was on the wall from the start – we wanted different things, or maybe it was just I wanted someone else. Funny, once I'd ended things with Jake, the dreams stopped again, not even returning when he told me Sam was moving out. Maybe, it was too scary to dream . . to hope.

But that, what happened that night . . . and morning. . . . was no dream, and he cradled me after in his arm and took my hand. And then, I slept, but I didn't dream.

When I woke, it crept in, the fear. It started like a trickle then filled my stomach. What have you done? What have you done? What have you done? We were friends it was easy; it was simple; it worked. What was this, pity sex? Rebound sex? Not with him, not with him. The memories washed over me of intimate nights and stilted, awkward mornings, and I couldn't take it. What if he's sorry, regrets it? Get out, get out, get out. I tried to but he woke up. He was warm, happy . . .sexy, none of the things I was afraid of happened that afternoon. . .. except one, the one I hadn't thought to be worried about.

This is the great irony of my life, my timing sucks. I go to him to set "healthy boundaries," and I walk out of there the mother of his child. Tell me how that is fair? It's three kinds of crazy. That's my life. Except now it isn't my life or just my life is it? But it can be. If I walk through that door, I get my life back such as it is or was. I can finish my residency without interruption. I can figure things out with him. . . . . or not, but it's my life again. Being someone's mother, it scares me. Is it worth the risk? He scares me. Is he worth the risk? I don't know.

Or maybe I do.


	2. Second Chances

This is from Luka's POV – hope you enjoy.

Part II – Second Chance

Bleak, it's so bleak and cold outside. The river is grey, the wind biting and harsh. But, the winter always gives way to the spring, and I'm holding her hand . .. . .

It was my routine, work, drink, fast food, TV, sleep, work, drink, fast food, TV, sleep. That night as I flipped the channels the thought I couldn't escape was what a waste it was, what a damn stupid waste of a life. Whose life? Was it the little girl's life, or your own? Good question. I almost didn't hear it, the doorbell. Who? Abby.

She was angry. As angry with me as I've ever seen her which was pretty damn angry.

"That's the most important thing. That you were right." She's crying, Abby's crying. I made her cry, which makes me want to cry. It was a nightmare case, and I'd been cold, not just to Clemente who fucking deserved it, but to her who didn't. Why? Because she didn't choose me, didn't listen to me, . . .. again. She'd chosen the other fucking guy who was an ass, Clemente. Even after that fiasco with the monkey. Damn it, damn it all.

"Keep me out of it" she says. I can't that's the problem Abby don't you see I can't keep you out of it although God help me, I've tried.

Then she's talking about the little girl and how scared she must have been, and I remembered that she knows what it's like to be taken and afraid. Oh hell, how could I have been so caught up in my own crap that I couldn't see through to her? All I wanted to do was stop her pain and let her know, let her know . . . .

I put my hands on her face, her hand reached up to mine. That time I didn't stop myself, I couldn't. All those years of stopping myself but that night I didn't, couldn't. I kissed her hard and then I drank her in. .oh Abby. When I opened my eyes and looked at her, those eyes, those lips, I knew, and I saw in her eyes that she knew too.

"Abby?" She nodded and that was all I needed. I kissed her like a drowning man, and I was.

Seeing her body again, took my breath away. I'd forgotten how damn beautiful she is. I made love to her. I hadn't even realized how robotic sex had become for me. I knew all the "right" things to do, and it didn't matter to me anymore until that night. I wanted to reclaim every inch of her, and I did, every moan every gasp was like a personal victory. I didn't know what to say when it was over except to apologize, so little. But she looked at me, and I knew it was enough. Then she had her turn at reclamation, and it made me smile because I knew it for what it was.

We fell asleep for a time, all tangled up in each other. When I woke, I felt rather than saw her standing there watching me. In my haze I muttered, "Don't leave me" as I reached out for her. "What?" she asked. I was relieved it had come out in Croatian, and I had another chance not to sound so pathetic. "Come to bed" I said and pulled her to me. We made love again; it was like we'd never stopped being lovers. When she fell asleep in my arms, I couldn't sleep. It hurt. Hurt? I was surprised by it. It was like when you have part of you that falls asleep from sitting too long and when you move and the blood flows, it begins to tingle so much it hurts. That's how I felt, like parts of me had gone to sleep, and the waking-up hurt. But sometimes pain is good, and I knew this was the good kind. I held her tighter and in her sleep her arm shifted from my stomach to my neck, like an embrace. It brought tears to my eyes because no one should be without this.

I'd given up. When I went after Alex and Sam on that long drive, I'd decided. I'd had passion, and lost it. Most people don't get one shot at that kind love who was I to think it would be like that again. You take what you get in life and you're grateful for it. People to care about, to come home to, to take care of, that's what life is about, and I'd be lucky to have that. There's lots of ways to love after all_. She's not a medical student anymore you know. .. .. . "It suits you." A smile, those eyes looking up at me._ Stop it. She hasn't given you one hint since before Carter that you're anything to her but a friend. So, let it go. It's not going to happen, and you can waste your life waiting for it, or you can have something of your own. Make your choice. And, I did. I tried. I did my best. But, I had to shut down parts of myself to do it. Everything has a price.

But, there she was again. She hadn't gone to him; she'd come to me. Maybe there's something more to be had in this life. Maybe there is such a thing as a second chance. Oh Abby. I had been awake for a long time, but I slept then, and had a dream, a beautiful dream of making love to her. In my dream, I reached out and she was there . . .she was there, and I made love to her just like in all the other dreams. . . ..

I'd been dreaming of her off and on for four years. They started in Bosnia, damn funny thing. I'm on the other side of the world, and I can't stop dreaming about her. Funny dreams, sexy dreams sometimes even sad ones. I couldn't explain it to myself not then, not even now. They came and went over the years. But, it wasn't the dreams that were the problem when she was staying with me. It was falling asleep those rare times she wasn't working. Reminded me of dating Danijela, the self-control part I mean. It wouldn't have been right; she needed space, time to heal. Guess I gave her too much space, and I paid the price. The worst was that year she spent with Carter. I'd sleep with someone . . anyone really and dream of her. I'd wake up and not infrequently someone would be there . . but it wasn't her so what did it matter . . what did any of it matter. After the Malaria the dreams didn't come so much. I thought it was a sign. Maybe I wanted it to be a sign. But every now and then, one so real, so vivid came that it shocked me, threw me.

"You were talking in your sleep last night, must have been some dream?" Sam asked one morning.

"What did I say?" Uh-oh.

"Don't know it sounded Croatian."

"Oh"

"So?"

"Don't remember. You need me to drive Alex today?"

That's how the hiding brings the distance. But, how do you tell the truth when the truth can't be told? You're as screwed if you do talk as you are if you don't, maybe more.

I had a dream that night she came to me. And in the dream after we made love, I took her hand, and I fell asleep with her head on my arm. But that time when I woke up, she was in my room if not in my bed. It was a second chance, and I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. It was the first second chance, cause something went wrong that night. It never works when I try to tell her how I feel, it's like it can't be done. I was attempting to tell her how important she is to me. You know, it's not just sex or something, which was a lot more than "nice" by my accounts. Anyway, somehow in the muddle, we walk away "just friends". I didn't even understand how that happened, but it did. So my second, second chance came the night of Neela's reception. The "friends" thing was killing me. It was difficult to be near her, worse to be without her and almost impossible to fall asleep, but the idea of finding release with anyone else was repugnant. I just wanted . . .needed . . a sign, a hint, a clue. Give me something Abby. She did, and this time I didn't waste my time with words. I think two is just about the right number "I do". Seemed to work for her too. And then everything worked. We laughed; we talked; we made love. It was so simple. It seems like a lifetime ago. . . . ..

Today when she told me she was going to Coburn's, I almost thought we were all out of chances. I wanted us to have the baby. I wanted her to want it too . . my baby . . our baby. After my shift, I walked. She'd made her choice. I had choices too. It wasn't as hard as I thought. I knew what my life was like with her, and I knew what my life was like without her. I chose her knowing what it meant, knowing what I was giving up. The only thing left to do was to find her and tell her. So, I did. And, for the third time, I got my second chance, a gift from Abby to herself, to me, to us. Oh Abby.

"


	3. Hello, It's Me

I hadn't intended to have any additional chapters, but I couldn't resist exploring the idea of a Carter phone call. So here it is, hope you enjoy. And as always the characters don't belong to me.

A tangle of arms, legs, lips, the only sounds intimate whispers, quiet laughs, until a more mundane sound pierced her consciousness. The phone.

"Luka . . . .Luka . .. "

"Hmmm . . what? What's wrong?" She had pulled away slightly – the sound had yet to work it's way into his consciousness – he was too far gone.

"The phone . . "

"Leave it."

"It might be the hospital for you . . . "

"Leave it."

"It might be Maggie, I gave her your number . . . .or Eric."

"Leave it . . it's late why would they be calling . . . "

"Nothing good" with that she gently pulled away and straddling his stomach reached for the phone. "Hello" she said somewhat breathless, his arm flopped over his eyes in frustration

"Sam?" The voice on the other end sounded a bit confused and vaguely familiar.

Her face contorted slightly in mock exasperation, and she pinched Luka on the arm. "Noooo, it's not Sam." He lifted the arm to peak at her and shrug. Who would think it would be Sam?

"Abby?" The minute the word was out she knew who it was.

"Carter?" Her face was surprised and a little sheepish like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. It wasn't the first time he'd made her feel that way, and it was not a good feeling. Luka's arm came off his eyes again and moved behind his head to prop himself up. The other hand moved up her leg to her thigh, an unconscious gesture of possession.

"What are you doing there – it must be after 11 at night?" The question tumbled out before he had time to think. As soon as he said it, he knew exactly what she was doing there, and they both knew it.

"Didn't he get my letter?" Luka spoke quietly reading the hesitation on Abby's face.

"Didn't you get Luka's letter?"

"No, but I haven't been in Kisangani for weeks, I'm in Dafur."

"He's not in Kisangani, he's in Dafur." Abby repeated to Luka.

"I'm happy for you Abby. .. . . really." He knew it was a cliché and maybe happy wasn't quite the word. He felt strangely as if he'd walked in on his parents – knowing something he'd rather not know – . . .

"Thanks Carter."

"Can't say I'm too surprised."

"Really? I was."

"No you weren't." He was taken back to his first trip to Africa – Luka's "How's Abby?" Abby's "Where's Luka?" How could either of them have been surprised?

"Yes . . . . I was."

"Okay if you say so." She always did have to contradict he thought and chuckled lightly. "I'd love to catch up, but I don't have long, can I talk to Luka?"

"Oh, yes of course. And Carter? Take care of yourself."

"I will . . thanks." She handed the phone to Luka and rolled off him curling up next to his side and distractedly rubbing her hand over his chest.

"Hey"

"I'd ask how you're doing, but I think I can guess." Abby's voice had been a bit breathless when she'd answered the phone, and Luka's proximity suggested that he'd called at an inopportune moment.

Luka grinned broadly, "How are you? How's Kem"

"Kem's fine . . in Paris. I'm overwhelmed here and the doctor I've been working with is sick. He needs to go for treatment but won't till I get some help . . . so I thought . … .I was wondering . . .hoping you might be able to steal away for a couple of weeks to give me a hand."

"You want me to go to Africa?" He felt her pull away. She sat up with her back to him pulling the covers up over her body.

"Just for maybe a month . . . you're experienced . . .we need that. It's a mess here Luka."

"I . . . . . you know I would . . . help . . if I could . . . . " his voice broke off he reached up and stroked Abby's arm, she offered him her profile. "Abby?" he whispered and she nodded understanding the question. "I don't know if I can leave Abby right now."

"She's not drinking again?"

"No, no nothing like that. It's . . . .we're . . .we're going to have a baby."

"A baby?" There seemed to be some sort of rule that this be repeated back to him.

"Yes, a baby . . in July."

"Wow, you didn't waste much time." The baby hurt, Carter had to admit it. His own son would have been two by the time Luka and Abby's baby was born. It was hard to think of them as parents while he and Kem were still struggling with the aftermath of their own loss.

"No time to waste."

"No, I guess not." If anyone had waded through crap to get to this point he imagined it was Luka.

"What?"

"I just . . . I didn't . . I didn't think Abby . . . . ."

"People change."

"Yes . . . .yes I guess they do. Well of course you can't come. I understand." Luka had waited a long time for this and honestly Carter did understand – he wouldn't leave Kem alone if she chose to take the chance again.

"I'm really sorry Carter – I would help if I could – I owe you at least that, after you came back for me."

"No, don't worry about it. You're where you should be. I mean that."

"Thanks. Listen, I still have some contacts, let me make some calls maybe I can find you some help. Call back in a couple of days.

'You got it. Thanks Luka. And Luka?"

"Yes?"

"Congratulations, I'm happy for you . . both of you." Carter was relieved to realize that he meant it.

"Thanks. Talk to you soon."

"Yeah."

Luka put the phone down and looked at her back. She hadn't moved, back to him, clutching the sheets, very still.

"Abby?" Nothing

"Abby? What is it?" He sat up behind her stroking her arm with the back of his hand. He was desperately afraid of the answer, but he had to know.

She closed her eyes . . she really wanted to say nothing was wrong, but fought the urge. "You don't have to stay and baby sit me just because I'm pregnant. If you want you to go, you should go"

It wasn't what he feared most, the cause of her distance, and he felt his breath come out in a sigh unaware he'd been holding it. "You want me to go?"

Part of her wanted to say yes- to test him – but she knew it wasn't fair and she wasn't even sure she could make the word come out. So instead she spun around to face him.

"No."

"Then that's two of us."

'But you wanted to go back before."

"And, now I don't want to leave. I don't want to miss this, Abby."

"The pregnancy"

"The time with you before the baby comes." She didn't think he could say anything more perfect so she fell on him and kissed him hard.

When she pulled back he gave her a smile, touching her face, her hair. "See, how could I leave?"

She looked at him for a long measured moment, and then unable to hold the question back she asked, "What happened to you there?"

"In Africa?"

"Yes."

"It's a haze."

"You don't have to talk about it. It's alright, never mind. " She brushed an invisible strand of hair from his forehead.

"No, no, I'll try. After Carter left, I stayed in Matenda with some patients we couldn't move. The guerillas came back, by then I had the Malaria so I was out of it at times. A small group of us hid. But they captured us . . I remember trying to walk . .trying to say something . . and then . .my head felt like it was splitting open. Next thing I knew my hands were tied." His face shifted then and he was somewhere else. "I was in a line up for . .. . . .to be . . . . executed. I watch them kill my friend – Patrique - shot in the head. And I . . .I started to pray . . in Croatian. .. . and they . . .they didn't shoot me. They thought I was a priest. Maybe . . I don't know . . .maybe they thought it would bring them bad luck – I was sick – I would have died on my own soon enough. So, they didn't kill me." She watched him intently, and his eyes started to clear, he looked at her again, back home. "I don't remember much after that, but being in and out of delirium – wanting water so badly . . . . feeling so cold and then so hot . . the shakes . . .. The next thing I really remember I was in Kisangani at the hospital." He bent his head and leaned into her shoulder, her hand reached up on his neck.

"Luka." He looked at her. She had tears in her eyes and as one began to make its way down her cheek, he took his thumb and wiped it away. He didn't know that he himself had cried till she kissed his cheeks.

"How could you want to go back?"

"How did you go back to work?" It was so gentle, barely audible.

She nodded. Then she traced the curve of his face, his neck, his torso with her fingers pausing over ancient injuries real and imagined. He leaned into her again for a time, as she held him, she thought about the twists that had brought them here. What had Carter called it long ago – Chaos Theory. If she and Carter hadn't been such a mess maybe he wouldn't have gone to Africa. If he hadn't gone, he wouldn't have gone back for Luka. Luka would have died thousands of miles away from her, and he wouldn't be here with her now – and there would be no baby growing inside her- she sighed. Maybe it was as Luka said when he found out about the baby – everything happens for a reason. Chaos indeed.

After her sigh, he sought out her neck with his lips. She lifted her head and as his lips made their way down, she arched her back and gave herself over to him, a different kind of chaos enveloping her. Their love making that night was a celebration of survival and of homecomings, tender but with a rawness that hadn't been there for four years.

After, she lay in his arms, felt his breathing slow, he was drifting to sleep. She hadn't been able to speak before.

"Chuny told me you were dead."

His arm tightened over her, the emotion in her voice said it all, and he didn't know what to say to let her know he understood what she was telling him, that his life and his "death" had mattered, it had mattered very much to her.

"Frank told me you were alive." Her voice brightened. "He called me out of a patient's room, said he had news he knew that I would want. It was the first . . . . and last time I ever hugged Frank."

He smiled, laughed a bit and again felt the warm haze of sleep creep over him – what was left to say.

She wasn't done. "Were you in love with her?"

"Who?" Almost asleep, he was confused by the question.

"Gillian."

"No." The answer came without hesitation, but he wasn't proud of it.

"It wasn't like that . . .like this."

She almost asked him what this was – but part of her was afraid she'd be disappointed by the answer – and part of her already knew. There was a pause, then as she pressed her body into his, Abby's voice came soft and low.

"I'm glad."


	4. Chaos vs Conrol

A/N You have all been so encouraging that I've decided to try to move forward. As the first two chapters were truly meant to be a one shot, I'm not sure how it will all go. This chapter is a decided change of pace. We move from the serious to the rather silly. I do like writing conversations that I really want to see that we never will, so that's the first part. But, the second part is pure luby silliness and I hope you take it in the spirit of fun it's intended.

Disclaimers: I don't own the characters.

Warning: Croatian swear words and non-explicit sexual content

"Chaos vs. Control"

Abby sank into the warm water. She couldn't take the really hot baths she loved anymore, but this felt good on her aching legs and feet. Then she heard the door and Luka moving around downstairs. Suddenly the only ache that mattered was the one in her stomach. Food. She dried off, slipped on her robe and headed down.

"Hey" she said and kissed him lightly. "Did you get it?"

"Did I get it? Of course I got it."

"Mu Shu and those pot stickers and that chicken . . .you did get the chicken?"

"I did. Just how many babies do you have in there?"

"I thought we had this discussion. Just one, one very hungry baby."

They sat down to heaping plates. After she had satisfied her hunger, Abby remembered she had some interesting news to get the low down on.

"So, I heard a rumor?"

"You did?"

"Yes, rumor has it Pratt is going to Africa on your orders."

"My orders?"

"Something like that, coercion was implied so what gives."

"I can be persuasive."

"Yeah I know, but I don't think that's going to work on Pratt."

"Let's just say I made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

"So, you work for the mafia now?"

"Don't ask, don't tell."

"Oh, the government then. Rumor has it it's a punishment."

"A punishment? Noooooo, I wouldn't say that."

She disregarded his denial. "For what – what did he do?"

"Can't tell."

"Oh, Chief stuff. Okay. So . . if I'm bad are you going to send me to Africa?" She leaned in a bit, flirting with him now.

"Noooooo – if you're bad you get an entirely different punishment." He was more than ready to flirt back. 

"Aren't you afraid I'll sue you for sexual harassment?"

"Aren't you afraid I'll stop sexually harassing you?'

"Good point. So this whole Africa business got me thinking."

"Yes?"

"You know how one thing leads to another – chaos theory. If Carter and I hadn't fought, and he hadn't gone back for you none of this would have happened"

"None of this? You mean the mu shu?"

"I mean the baby."

"That's not chaos theory."

"It's not?"

"No, it has to be more random, more obscure."

After a pause, "Well, maybe Eric then."

"Eric? Your brother Eric?"

"Yes, if he hadn't fallen into Carter's grandmother's grave, Carter might not have been so angry with me."

"He fell into Carter's grandmother's grave?" Luka tried not to do it, but it was a rather useless battle. "he. ..heheheheheh"

"It's not funny." It really hadn't been but she found herself laughing with him anyway.

"How did it happen?"

"Well, it's a long story. He showed up at my place off his meds, and I couldn't leave him alone. So, I brought him with me and it went down hill from there."

"Why didn't you call Carter and tell him you couldn't come?"

"I couldn't, he was already mad at me."

"For what?"

"For leaving him to get Eric in the first place. I got a call from Eric the same day he found out his grandmother died. He wanted me to stay and help him with the plans, but I felt I should get Eric before he disappeared again."

"He was angry at you for going to your brother who had been missing for what . . weeks?"

"Yes. But you have to understand he was . .. . .disappointed in me even before then."

"Disappointed in you?"

"Well, the . . . . the drinking . . . smoking . .my general sunny disposition. You know."

"You drank while you were with Carter?"

"Some, not all the time. I was in relapse."

"Wow."

"What? Now you're disappointed."

"Disappointed? Why would I be disappointed? I'm surprised."

"About what?"

"I thought he'd make you happy."

"No one can make another person happy."

"Sorry, I meant I thought you'd be happy together."

"It didn't work out that way. Hey, you told me you didn't think I was happy."

"You told me you were."

"Ha" She pointed her finger at him like a good trial lawyer. "You do remember – you liar, you acted like you didn't remember."

"I was embarrassed."

"Why? Because . . .you'd made a drunken pass at me?"

"Yeah, pretty much"

"So, what if I had told you I wasn't happy?" They got up to clear the table.

"I don't know."

"Come on, what?" She looked up at him expectantly.

Damn, she was cute and her robe was slipping open in a rather becoming way, and he could smell the lavender from her bath. Perhaps his response reflected his current state of mind. He winked, "Well then I would have taken you on Susan's bed."

"You would not have." She smacked him with the dish towel.

"Oh okay, okay." He paused looking at her seriously, "I would have told you that it didn't matter that I was drunk. That I missed you twice as much sober. And, that I wanted to us to try again."

He looked down after he said it, and she watched him, surprise then understanding etched on her face. She reached up to touch his cheek. "I didn't know . . .. . . .I hurt you. I'm sorry. I really didn't think you . . . . wanted me."

He shrugged looking at her from under his bangs. "My own fault."

"In a lot of ways it was for the best. I couldn't have made it work with anyone then. I was a mess. I had to be on my own. Figure myself out first."

"Yeah . . all for the best." He reached out stroked her belly and gave her a smile. She felt another ache, and it wasn't for food.

"Still . . .. I'm kind of looking forward to the next Christmas party."

He smiled at her and reaching out pulled her to him kissing her as her arms wound around his neck. After a moment, he lifted her placing her on the counter so they were eye level, or rather lip level. She pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way. A few minutes later found clothing askew or removed and lips locked. And so, when the phone rang it happened that she had just unbuttoned his pants. They looked at each other and said in unison.

"Machine."

However, the voice on the machine that echoed back made Luka think twice.

"Hi, Luka . . . and Abby. It's Carter, sorry I missed you I was just hoping . . .."

This was problematic as his pants were now down around his ankles leading to a misfortunate accident when he lunged for the receiver.

"Jebiga"

"Luka?"

"Yeah. Govno"

"Are you okay?"

"I . . . .banged my . . . toe."

"Oh sorry. Thought I'd call earlier, catch you at a more . . .convenient time."

"Yeah thanks. Give me a minute." Luka took some deep breaths and the pain subsided. Abby held up an ice pack wincing for him, but he shook his head. "We were just . . . finishing dinner."

Abby came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him whispering, trying not to laugh. "Are you sure you're okay?" He nodded. Feeling both amorous and that Luka needed ministering, she let her hands roam over his chest as she pressed into him. As Luka's pain subsided, he found this increasingly distracting.

"I'm glad you called. I . .. ."

"Luka? You okay?"

"What? Oh yeah. " Covering the phone he pleaded "Abby . .. "

"So were you able to find anyone who could come?"

"Anyone to come?"

"To Africa – are you sure you're alright?" With this Luka put the phone under his ear and removed Abby's hands from his chest. Pulling her around to face him seemed like a good idea, but it was a tactical error because it merely gave her better ground for her benevolent assault upon his person. The mischievous glint in her eye let him know he was in a great deal of trouble.

"I'm fine. And I did find someone to help oooouuuuutttt." He looked at her with a combination of apprehension and anticipation.

"Luka?"

"Burned my hand."

"I thought you were finished with dinner."

"Stove's still hot . .no,. . no. . . no .. "

"Luka?"

"Sorry Abby's . . . . . . .using the wrong dish soap." Oh what the hell? Luka gave up the battle but won the war so to speak

'What? Your voice sounds kind of strange Luka."

"Head cold."

"You should take something for that."

"Yessss"

"So, you were saying you have someone who can help."

"Oh definitely very . . . .talented." Was that Abby giggling? No, Abby didn't giggle, must be static.

"Who?"

"Ppppratt."

"Who?"

"Pratt" It burst out like an expletive.

"You're kidding."'

"No . . . .no . .. he . . .he . . .he . . . he'll be great."

"If you think so."

'Oh yeah." There was something weird about Luka's tone of voice Carter thought, it was almost like a . . . .a . . . a . . moan? That toe must really be bothering him.

"Well you sound enthusiastic about it, if you think he's matured enough?"

"Enough." He was almost pleading.

"Okay, okay, if you think so. You sure you're alright?"

"Yup."

"I better let you go, you must be tired."

"Luka?"

"Luka?"

"Yeah. . . . . ..yeah we'll talk soon . … . later . . . . soon . . .. "

"Give my best to Abby."

"Mmmm Abby. Take,. . . care of . . . . yourself . . .Carter." Boy, Luka sounded kind of choked up. Carter was touched.

"Thanks. Bye. Oh Luka?"

But he was already gone.


	5. No Regrets

No Regrets 

Abby was sitting on the ambulance bay bench. Her shift was over; she was waiting for him, ready to go home. Maybe they could get the nursery ready to paint tonight. They'd bought the paint just the other day, a soft yellow. She watched as the impressive car belonging to Sam's new employer pulled into the bay. Out of the hospital came Alex, then Sam and Luka. She watched as he spoke to Sam, nodded to Alex. And, she watched him as he watched them drive away. His expression made her stomach clench. Don't be an idiot, Abby. She halfway hoped he wouldn't see her sitting there. But, as he turned to go in their eyes met, and the hope became useless. She screwed up her courage.

"Nostalgic?" Might as well dive in the deep end.

He was embarrassed and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." He stuck his hands into his pockets and walked slowly over sitting down heavily next to her.

She looked at him tenderly, trying to understand. "It would be normal. This time last year you were living with her."

"With them."

Realization and relief dawned on her. "Oh . . .Alex?"

"It's just sort of strange, I thought they needed me. I promised myself I'd take care of them. . protect them. … .and now . . . ."

"You're not."

"Looks like they're doing better without me."

"Luka . . . .I'm sure that's not . . ."

"No, they weren't happy with me, not in the end. . Sam was angry . . .Alex was distant. . . .I just. ..thought it would be different. "

"I'm sure Alex still wants to see you. You could spend more time with him."

"No, I don't think he'd want that … .. kids move on . . . .it's the adults that have the hard time. He never wanted me to be too fatherly, and it was all I wanted to be. .. .. I think from the first time I saw him. I felt like . . .he connected to me . . . .and I missed that."

"Love at first sight?" She understood, for Luka they had been a son with no father, a father with no son.

"Something like that, he made me feel like I could have someone of my own to take care of. . . . to be important to. .. to need me . . for the first time in . . . .a long time."

She rested a hand on her belly. "Someone else will need to be taken care of soon." _I need you too_. But it was scary enough to feel it, let alone say it, so she didn't. Instead, she took his hand, and he smiled at her. "So, why was Sam so angry?"

"I don't know. She said we wanted different things, she'd had Alex, that was enough."

Abby froze as the realization hit her. "You wanted her to have your baby. You asked her to have a baby with you." It wasn't a question. Abby knew the answer. Of course he had, they'd been living together. Of course he had wanted a baby with Sam. Of course.

"Um . . . .we . . we . .discussed it." Luka felt Abby's retreat, and he realized he was on dangerous ground. It didn't change anything between them from his point of view. But he wasn't sure Abby would see it that way.

"She said no, and you broke up."

"I wasn't the one to break it off." It was true, but the wrong answer. Somehow he had picked up a shovel and was digging himself deeper by the moment.

"No, you weren't. If . . if things had gone differently . . .Sam would be pregnant with your baby right now." Somehow saying it, knowing it, made Abby feel a little sick. If Sam had wanted more children, she'd be the one pregnant right now. She dropped his hand and stood up. She felt the need to move.

"Look . .it's not like I planned this . . . . ." Worse and worse, he saw her face and it fell, hurt, disappointed, confused, all of it. He felt helpless to stop it.

"No, Luka, it's not like we planned it. Listen, I'm pretty tired tonight. I think I'll just head home." She shuffled her feet, tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Abby . . . " Luka stood searching for the right words … but he couldn't find any.

"No, it's fine, I'm just tired – have mail to catch up with . . . haven't been home in a week." There was no invitation in her words.

"Won't Neela be there?"

"No, she's on nights. I'll see you tomorrow." She managed a smile albeit not a very convincing one and turned and walked away towards the El.

"Abby . . . don't . . . "

"See you tomorrow." She didn't stop, or turn to look at him; she just tossed it over her shoulder and kept walking.

It wasn't the first night he'd spent alone; there had been nights they'd worked opposite shifts. It was, though, the first night since Neela's wedding that she'd chosen not to be with him. Somehow that made all the difference. On the other nights he'd found himself without her, he'd been content to catch up on bills or journals or watch a movie he knew she'd hate. But tonight nothing felt right. He missed her. He settled in with a stack of journals trying to make the best of it. His thoughts however, refused to cooperate. He couldn't help wondering if tomorrow would be any different from tonight. She'd been tender and concerned, and he'd been an idiot. What if this was the beginning . . . the start of never being able to say or do anything right? What if he screwed this up, lost her? He realized that he'd read the same case report three times and still had no clue what it said. Throwing the journal across the room, he grabbed his keys and headed out.

Abby felt numb. She opened the door to her apartment, which hardly felt like her own anymore. Neela's things were scattered around, and it was strange to feel like a guest here. She scrounged in the fridge, found leftovers and sat dejectedly at the table trying to eat. She felt like crying. She knew she was being stupid. It's not like it was a news flash that Luka wanted children. She had no right to be jealous or hurt. He'd been living with Sam, it was only natural they talked about having children. Luka was right, he hadn't planned to get her pregnant. She'd gone to him; he hadn't come to her. This of course was no comfort. She was jealous, and she hated it, knew it was petty and foolish. What was worse was feeling like second choice, or second not-choice, any uterus in a pinch. She'd told Nicole that a made up life would never make him happy. Was this a made up life? It didn't feel that way. She'd never seen him so happy, even before the baby. He laughed more, joked more, smiled more than she'd ever seen. How could it not be real? Still she just wanted to cry. So unbelievably, she did. The hot tears stinging her eyes came down, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. _Stop it, Abby_

She splashed water on her face, put on pajamas that were more than a little snug and crawled into bed. It seemed incredibly big and lonely. There hadn't been many nights they'd been apart. Good work – give him a reason to regret this, if he didn't already have one. He probably thinks he's involved with a jealous, immature shrew that's going to start throwing things at his head. She tossed and turned for a time, finally she gave up on sleep and got up to make tea. Then she heard the knock on her door. No one had buzzed, must be Mrs. Johnson looking for quarters for her laundry. She looked through the peephole. It wasn't Mrs. Johnson. She couldn't help herself, she smiled.

"You didn't use your key." He was standing there with his hands behind his back, looking penitent.

"I wasn't sure you'd want me to. I come bearing gifts."

"What?"

"Mint chocolate chip." He pulled the pint of ice cream from behind his back.

"Well, then I guess I have to let you in."

"Abby, I'm sorry."

"No, don't. It's not your fault. You had a relationship with Sam, I knew that. You were living together; I should have known you'd talked about having children. It was just . . .strange . . . to hear it. . to know it . . . I don't know . . ."

"It … it wasn't quite like that."

"No?" She carried the pint to the table and brought out two spoons. Opening it, she put the ice cream on the middle of the table and took a big spoonful for herself, before handing the other spoon to Luka.

He helped himself to the ice cream and took a deep breath before speaking. "Chaos theory – you're pregnant because I ran out of shaving cream."

She laughed, but she didn't say anything. He studied her face, had she been crying?

"What? You think it only works for you?"

"Okay I'll bite, how did your shaving cream knock me up?"

"I was looking for shaving cream one morning and found a pregnancy test box."

"Sam was pregnant?" She was shocked.

"No, she had a . . .scare . .it was negative."

Realization once again washed over her. "But she was relieved . . . .and you weren't."

"Yeah . . then she was just angry all the time. She was even angry that I wasn't angry. We ended up . . … . going for counseling." He didn't particularly want to talk about it, but somehow he knew she needed to know.

"Counseling? You didn't even live together a year." Abby couldn't stop the ends of her mouth from twitching upwards at the thought.

He shrugged and helped himself to another spoonful. "I know, I know . . .. . . . "

She tried to fight off her grin, staring pointedly at the ice cream on her spoon she said, "Well that's good, I mean it's important to try . . .. . Did it help?" This was good news, this was very good.

"No, not really. Not at all. She said living with me was like living with the Sphinx."

Now, Abby really did have to smile. "The Sphinx? Why? Did you go around talking in riddles all day? What walks on four legs in the morning?"

"Abby . . . .it's not funny . .. . " But he was smiling too, it really was sort of funny.

"And two legs in the mid-day. And . ."

He cut her off punishing her for her obvious delight. "And waddles when it's pregnant."

"You did not just say that . . . . I thought you were here to make-up." She shook her head milking the moment. "And, you were off to such a good start with the ice cream . .. now . . . . I don't know . . ." She sighed, but she couldn't hide the smile.

"There's nothing wrong with waddling. It's really very appealing."

"Except I don't waddle.'

"No, of course you don't." He grew serious and leaned across the table. "Abby just because I didn't plan this or expect it, doesn't mean I don't want it. I want this. I want this with you."

"No regrets?" When he looked at her that way, she could feel it all the way down to her toes.

"No"

She took another mouthful of ice cream. " Maybe you do know how to make-up after all." She was done letting her insecurities rule her world.

"You haven't seen anything yet." He stood up and took her by the hand, pulling her up from the table. Striding purposefully and pulling Abby behind him, he headed toward her bedroom. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not done making up."

She giggled. "My ice cream will melt."

"Exactly."


	6. Bittersweet

A/N: A big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review. Your encouragement has changed the one shot into a WIP, and now there's even a plan! Hope you enjoy it. 

Warning: Just a hint of a spoiler.

Bittersweet 

The morning light pouring through the blinds and the light spring breeze woke Luka from what was a rather nice dream. Rolling over, he expected to find Abby asleep since it was their day off. But instead, he found her with her tank pulled up over her belly staring intently.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine"

"What are you doing?"

"Watch." As she said it her belly began to shift of its own accord, then a sharp little pop on one side. "Woke me up ten minutes ago."

Luka smiled and propped himself on his side passing his hand over her belly. Nothing. Minutes passed. Still nothing.

"Watched pot." Abby said.

"What?"

"A watched pot never boils."

"Oh." He rolled over resting his head on her belly, and she ran her fingers through his hair. "Hey, I just got kicked in the ear." He looked at her and grinned.

"That's better than where I've been kicked lately." He laughed and kissed her belly, and settled back down.

"Marko used to wake Danijela up every morning at 6 am without fail. She called it football . . . soccer practice." Her belly rippled again. He hadn't mentioned the children since she told him she wanted them to have the baby. The opportunity felt precious.

"What was he like?"

"He had a huge smile. It was so easy to make him laugh. He loved his big sister, ice cream and dogs. Oh and he had this stuffed bunny that he carried with him everywhere. Danijela had to patch it three times . . .. he rubbed the fur off." His head was on her belly, and he was very still, but she could feel him smile.

"And Jasna?"

"She loved her brother . . . . . . when he wasn't driving her crazy. She could get him to do anything. Loved dresses and skirts . . .. . big ones so that when she twirled they'd lift up in the air. We were convinced she'd be a dancer someday. She danced all over the apartment."

Abby sighed, and he looked at her, then he asked. "Do you want to see a picture?"

"Yes" she said and pulled herself up to sit cross legged in their bed. He went over to his dresser and opened the top drawer. He'd taken it out of his wallet when Sam and Alex had moved in. It seemed like the right time.

He brought it over to her, and she held it in the filtered light.

"I don't have one of Marko."

She studied it then looked at him tenderly. "They're beautiful." He smiled at her and took it back.

"Yeah." He studied the faded photo himself for a moment.

"Is it hard . . . doing this again?" _With me instead of her._

He looked away from the picture meeting her eyes. "No, it . . it feels right. It was so long ago. I don't want that to be all there is to my life . . .in my life."

"Aren't you ever . . . .scared?"

"No, I don't let myself be." _Not about the baby_.

"I am. It feels like the craziest thing I've ever done."

"Yeah?"

"I mean we've only been together what, 6 months?" _You still haven't told me how you feel about me, what you want._ "I have another year of residency. It . . .it feels scary in so many ways." _To have the baby and to love you._

"Some day you'll say it was the best thing you ever did."

"You think?"

"Yeah, I do."

_That's how you feel about them._

He walked over and put the picture carefully back in the drawer. "So what are you going to do today while I paint?" The moment was gone as quickly as it came.

"I'm going shopping with Neela. She thinks I'm not taking advantage of the latest hip maternity fashions . . .or something like that."

"Sounds like fun. Is there such a thing as hip maternity clothes?"

"Apparently . . . we're really quite "in". Haven't you seen the cover of People?"

"What?"

"You're very Brad Pitt."

He raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. "Okay Angelina, what do you want for breakfast?"

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Neela and Abby had paused for lunch, shopping bags at their sides, huge salads in front of them.

"So, how is it now that you and Luka are living together?"

"He's the best roommate I ever had – present company excluded, of course."

"Of course."

"But, I'm not living with Luka."

"Abby, you've been in your apartment, what . . . one night in the past three weeks, and he was with you. You're living with Luka."

"I don't think you can count it as living together if you haven't even talked about living together."

"You bought him socks."

"I asked him if he wanted anything ….. he said socks."

"When's the last time you bought a man socks?"

_Shit._ "Richard."

"My point exactly, you're not just living together . . . you are bloody married." Neela bent and took another sip from the straw in her rather large, rather tropical, rather alcoholic beverage. Abby had lifted her eyebrows at the order, but Neela had simply said, "It's after 12."

"We haven't even talked about it. I guess we're not the impetuous type."

"Well, that's probably a good thing . . . .look at me . . .married with no husband . . .and you. . . you have a husband . . . but you're not married. More of that yin/yang crap."

"Neela, are you okay? Have you talked to Michael lately?"

"Yes, day before yesterday, he's fine, misses me, working hard and having fun with his mates." She took another big sip. "What do you sleep in?"

"What?"

"What do you wear to bed? Just tell me, Abby."

Neela was acting more than a little strangely, but Abby was willing to humor her. She'd probably be acting pretty strangely herself if Luka had gone to Africa.

"Are you practicing for phone sex with Michael or something? If you must know, a tank and pajama bottoms?"

"Your own tank or Luka's?"

"Luka's, why?"

Neela took another sip, ignoring the question. "Do you watch movies with him?"

"Sometimes, if we come home late from work . . Luka will put on these godawaful Westerns at first I thought I'd hate it . . .

"But then you got into it with him."

"Well I started teasing him so now we mostly . . "

"Laugh"

"Yeah and . . "

"Talk."

"Yeah."

"He makes you laugh."

"All the time."

"He finishes your sentences or you finish his."

"Sometimes."

"You wash the dishes together."

"Yes, but he does most of the cooking."

"Luka cooks?"

"Yes."

"Ray cooks."

"Really?"

"There's more to him than you think."

"Really?"

"When you come home and he's not there – it doesn't feel right."

"No, I guess not."

Neela took a very large sip. "I miss him."

"Of course you do, it's only natural."

"No, it's not . . … .natural. You don't understand."

"Neela, what?"

"It's Ray. I miss Ray.'

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"Waiter? Another."

Uh-oh 

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Hi."

"Hey, how was shopping? You were gone a long time." Luka, freshly showered, was on the couch watching basketball. He flipped it off as she walked over and flopped down next to him.

"Neela needed to talk,. . . . .. girl stuff." Neela had sworn Abby to secrecy about the Ray thing, whatever the Ray thing was, loneliness, attraction or something more.

"Oh." She handed him a shopping bag, and he looked in. "There's more than socks in here."

"I know. I saw some shirts I thought you might like, blue ones."

"Blue?"

"I like you in blue."

"I'll remember that."

"So, did you get the painting done?"

"I did."

"How'd it come out?"

"Pretty good. You can take a look tonight. By tomorrow the fumes will be gone, and you can tell me what's next."

_Neela was right. You are a good husband._

"What?" When she looked at him that way, he could feel it down to his toes.

"Nothing, nothing, show me the room."

They walked over. He opened the door and flicked on the light, the fan whirred and the window was open.

She walked to the middle of the room and turned around. All at once, it hit her like a ton of bricks that this was the room for their baby. The baby they would have together, raise together, love together. And for the first time, she wasn't afraid at all. She was just . . . . .happy. It felt right. It felt exactly right. "Luka, it's perfect." She crossed to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He tucked her in under his chin and grinned. "Perfect."


	7. Domestic Bliss

A/N: Thanks again to everyone for their reviews. Glad you liked Neela, she's fun to write.

Warning: This chapter remains spoilerish, and there's a little hanky-panky.

LOL in med speak is little old lady, not laugh out loud.

Domestic Bliss

Luka's hand crept from under the covers, searching, searching . .. he hit the top of the alarm. For the third morning in a row, Abby was awake watching her belly gyrate.

"Again?" He rolled over to look at her.

"Do you think this means it's a boy."

"Could be, surely a girl has "too much genetic information" to keep waking up her mother."

"You really don't understand the mother/daughter dynamic do you?"

"Guess not." He was developing a habit as well and settled down with his head on her belly. He began speaking in Croatian.

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing really . .. some little sayings. . . nursery rhymes."

She smiled at Luka, her attention was soon drawn to the fact that he hadn't put his t-shirt on, or anything else for that matter, after they'd made love last night. Her hands began sliding down his shoulders and arms, and when he looked at her she gave him a coquettish smile.

"Abby . . .we'll be late."

"What's the good of being the boss if you can't be a little late now and then."

"I'm supposed to be a good role model."

"Mmmm You're right. Never mind." She slipped her tank off. "I'll just get ready for my shower."

"Abby . ..you're not playing fair. "

"What?" She looked at him innocently. "All's fair in . . . . ." She brought herself up short.

He started kissing her mouth and neck, pausing to get the words out. "I'll just . .. .. call Kerry . .. . and . … . . . .tell her I'm … . … . too horny to make the . . … … ..budget meeting this morning."

She laughed and playfully pushed him down onto the bed. "Haven't you ever heard of a quickie?" She eyed him up and down raising her eyebrow in mock surprise. "Why Luka, I think you have. I'll take a rain check on the foreplay."

Maybe this was the key to a happy relationship, Luka thought. No, not the sex, although that was good too, being in the moment. He wasn't pushing an agenda, not angling for commitment, not even scaring her with the extent of his feelings for her. Just sitting back and letting her take the lead seemed to be working . . . .. in more ways than one.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Abby sank into the sofa in the lounge, propping up her feet and devouring her lunch.

"Hey." Neela came in and poured herself some coffee. "Are you eating lunch already?"

"I'm starving, and my feet are killing me. How are you? How's . . _.things_?"

"I'm avoiding _things_ at the moment actually and drinks with umbrellas. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I understand." _Glass houses and all_.

"Thank heavens I'm in surgery. I may just stay there."

"Neela you can't switch specialties to avoid . .. _things_."

"No, I really like it. I think it suits me. So, are you living with him yet?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Because I want to know how hard I need to look for a new place. I've no time."

"He hasn't said anything."

"Really? I'm surprised at Dr. Kovac. He seems more old fashioned than that. Wanker."

"I could say something if I wanted to . . but I don't . . it's fine. I'm happy." She didn't need or even want a ring, been there, done that, and it hadn't been good. But an "I love you" would be nice. It would be very nice. Although, she had to admit that she hadn't said it either. On a few occasions she almost blurted it out, but she bit her lip, or sometimes his. She was too afraid of the potential for an awkward silence.

Chuny stuck her head in. "Abby your LOL is crashing."

"Be right there. See you later?"

"Yeah, see you."

Luka, on his way in, brushed by Abby in the doorway. They paused and their eyes met. Luka grinned. Abby blushed. Neela sighed.

"Hello Dr. Kovac."

"Neela." He walked over and poured himself some coffee. He moved the pot toward her, offering her more, and she held out her cup. "How are liking your surgery rotation?"

"Very much thank you." There was a bit of a silence. "I don't think I ever offered a formal congratulations to you . .. . about the baby."

"Thank you."

"Um . . I hope . . my being at Abby's isn't . . . too much of an . .. . inconvenience for you?"

"Inconvenience? No, not at all." _Wait a minute, had Abby said something to Neela about wanting her place back?_

"Why, did . . .did. . . Abby say something?" He struggled to seem nonchalant.

"No, not really. I'm just not sure how hard I should look for my own place."

"Oh. I'm sure she'll let you know if she needs it. I don't think there's any rush. Unless . . . "

"Unless?"

"Unless, Abby thinks there's a rush. It is her apartment, her decision."

"Of course. Well, best be getting back to work." Someone in that relationship needs a serious kick in the ass, Neela thought. The only question was which ass, and who would do the kicking.

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That night after dinner, they sat on the couch. She was leaning against him, his arm draped around her, his hand resting on her belly. He was reading a medical journal. She was reading a baby book.

"Luka, do you think we should sign-up for a birth class?"

"If you want."

"I don't know. I don't want to take any narcotics, and I don't want to get an epidural too early and slow things down."

"Whatever you think, Abby."

"Well, I've seen enough births, and I guess you . . . . have too. Sometimes the breathing seems to help."

"It helped Danijela."

"Yeah? Did she have any medication."

"I think a little narcotic at the end with Jasna."

"So, did you . . coach her?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think you could do it again? I mean do you remember?"

"Sure, but I think there's lots of techniques. Why don't you pick one and we'll practice together."

"You'd practice with me?"

"Of course, unless you want to go to a class too?"

"No . . no, it's not like we don't know the medical stuff. I'll look through some books and pick something, and we . .. can just practice on our own."

"Good."

"I don't want to be a screamer."

"You're not a screamer . . . .. . more of a moaner. . .. and a talker . .. . .. and sometimes a shoulder biter . . . but not a screamer."

Each comment earned him an elbow in his ribs. "Shut –up." She laughed.

He feigned injury, rubbing his side. "Hey. Ouch. Don't worry. We'll be fine." He went back to reading his journal for a minute then put it down. "I mean, unless you want to worry."

She looked at him, thinking he was making fun of her, but he was serious, sort of earnest. It was sweet. "No, I'm good right now. I'll let you know though, if we need to pencil in some worrying time."

"You'll do great, and I'll mop your brow and hold your hand."

"Just so you know, if you put sports on the TV while I'm in labor, I'll kill you."

"I promise you my undivided attention."

She never realized before how very sexy earnest could be. "Speaking of undivided attention, I believe I have a rain check to cash."


	8. Tunnel of Love

SPOILER WARNING: This one has a definite spoiler from 12:21. Most of it is my musings on certain things that can be inferred from 13:2. Personally, I think we've waited long enough! 

The title is from Springsteen's song. "_The house is haunted and the ride gets rough_."

Many thanks to my beta readers, Claudia and Katalyn. This was far and away the most difficult chapter to write.

Tunnel of Love 

Driving into the hospital that morning, Luka turned the radio down and asked, "Do you know when Gallant will be back in the States?"

"No, why?"

"Just thinking about staffing in July, if he's back, and interested."

"I can ask Neela." Then after a pause, "She . . . . she asked about my apartment again . .. ..are we, are we living together?"

He shrugged.

"I told her no, . . .. . but we kind of are. And, I'm wondering are we really, you know officially?"

"I thought the point of living together is that it's **un**official. But I'm ready if you are."

"What does that mean?"

"It means whenever you want to give up your apartment, you can. It's up to you."

It wasn't the eager invitation she was hoping for.

"Well, I guess I won't worry about it right now. Neela's paying the rent and it's hard to find a place on a resident's budget. It's not like she can move back in with Ray."

"Why not?"

Shit, she had almost spilled the beans. "Would you want to move back in with Ray?"

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Abby had been waiting to catch Neela to ask her about Michael's status – but she never had a chance. As soon as they saw the army chaplain, they knew. Michael was dead. There would be no discharge, no position at County and no marriage. Abby tried to talk to her at work, but Neela had shut down, closed off. After work, she went to her apartment to find her and offer comfort. It seemed Neela had already found some comfort, the Southern variety.

"Neela, I'm so sorry."

"Condolences to the widow eh? Not much of a widow, am I? Or should I say not much of a wife?"

"Neela"

"No, you know Abby _– you know_. How long was Michael gone before I . . had feelings for another guy? There's nothing right about that. I loved him, but he wasn't here. What kind of marriage did we have? Everyone's going to treat me like a widow, and I wasn't even a wife. Not really . . . . We were supposed to spend our lives together . . .we spent what . . . .two months. I don't even know whether he likes jam on his grilled cheese."

"Neela, it's not your fault he left."

"No, not my fault . . . . .. I asked him to stay. . . .he wouldn't. Marriage it's a joke Abby. Well, never mind you know that. How long did Richard "forsake all others? Hell, how long did I?"

"I understand you must be feeling bitter right now. . . ."

"Bitter? No, bitter is what I would have felt 20 years from now dragged from army base to army base, no career, no husband, no nothing, like Mrs. Gallant. And why? Because I had to be impetuous and wild, bloody pair of idiots."

"Neela, you feel this way now because of the shock the grief . . .. . "

"No, you're smart Abby, you and Luka. No commitments, no promises, just together for now and then who knows. Who can tell how they'll feel 20 days from now let alone 20 years. Michael promised to honor me, and he walked out on me, and now he's dead. You're the smart one. Better just to be friends with certain benefits."

All the way home, she couldn't get it out of her mind, what Neela had said. Is that what they were? Had she really been kidding herself these past months that this was love, and he only needed time to tell her how he felt about her. She felt sick. So he's settling for his friend and his baby because it's better than being alone. Is that it? That was the last thing she wanted for herself or for him. It was time to find out. But if she did that – it might mean losing whatever it was they did have. She couldn't stay with him if he didn't love her. It would be cheating them both. Was she ready to leave? Maybe she should sleep on it, things might seem different tomorrow. Surely she didn't need to be rash.

But from the moment she saw him and her heart lurched, she knew she couldn't delay the inevitable. She had to know.

He came out of the nursery when she walked in.

"I was getting worried. You didn't call."

"Sorry – it slipped my mind."

"How's Neela?"

"She's . . . . . terrible, but she'll be okay . .. I think. I'll check on her tomorrow."

"Yeah." He turned to go back to the nursery.

'Luka . .. . .. ..what . . what are we doing?"

"What do you mean? I was just putting the crib together."

"No, I mean what are **we** doing, you and me, what is this?" She was gesturing with her hands, clearly on edge.

Luka was caught flatfooted. "I don't know. We're having a baby."

"I'm not talking about the baby. What do I mean to you?" _If you say we're friends . . I'll die.  
_  
"You know that Abby . . . ."

"I know I'm your friend, that we've been through a lot together."

"Yeah . . . of course."

"This can't be about you wanting a baby."

"It's not. Abby what's this about?"

"Or being lonely. Because I don't want to pretend."

"Are **you** pretending?" _Was this about him or her?  
_  
"I'm pretending that I understand what we're doing . . .and you are very good at not answering the question."

He decided to proceed slowly and cautiously. "We're friends, we're lovers . . . . .we have fun. . . it's good. Don't you think it's good?"

"Yes, it's been … . .good. But I want . . .I need . . . to know what you feel for me."

Luka failed to realize that everything hinged on the next words that came out of his mouth, everything. "I care a lot Abby." _There, that was a good place to start_.

_Care? Oh god, "I care" is what you say when you want to love someone but you don't. I** cared** about Jake_. _Oh god, oh god, oh god_. She nodded. She felt sick. "Well, that's it then."

She had to leave even though she had no idea where she would go. It really didn't matter at that moment. He didn't love her, couldn't love her. It wasn't his fault. But it wasn't enough, not anymore. She nodded again and turned on her heel towards the door. The room was swimming. She couldn't believe it. She'd been wrong, all this time.

"What's it? Abby, Abby . . . " She didn't hear him.

What a fool, she'd been such a fool. Luka's footsteps came up fast behind her, but she didn't hear those either. She'd just climbed the steps when he grabbed her arm and swung her around. The steps eliminated their height discrepancy, so they stood eye to eye, although she wouldn't look at him.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know." The tears were on hot her cheeks, and she hated, hated that he could see them.

"Abby. . .. . ."

"Luka, caring . . .I don't think that's enough . . . . that's not what I want from you . . . . and I don't know . .. . I don't know . . . . . . .. .We'll arrange some kind of custody thing. "

_Custody? The baby without Abby?_ Luka blanched, a chill went down his spine. It was like a dream morphing into a nightmare before his very eyes. "Just wait . . . let me explain."

She looked him in the eye then. Anger was her friend in that moment. "I don't want your pity, I never have . . .and I don't want your guilt .. .. . .. and I don't want to be . .. . your friend . . . . . with benefits … . . I don't want it . . . . . ." She tried to turn to go, but he still had her by the arm and wouldn't let go.

In an instant his world had stopped making sense, and that feeling was all too familiar. He shuddered. _Stop her, fix it, say something_. "Damn it Abby, listen to me. Do you think you're the only one who's ever afraid?"

"What . . .what are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of this. I'm afraid of you . . . I'm afraid of screwing up .. . .I feel like I lose everyone .. . . .everyone I love . …. . I always lose them. Sometimes, I don't even know how . . .. . .. I can't lose you. . .. . . I'm afraid . . .. . … I'm afraid of what I feel for you . . . . .it scares me . . .. . ."

"What .. .why?"

"Because the last time I felt this way about someone . . I lost her … . . .. " He couldn't finish, and he looked down.

"Sam?"

He looked at her again, and she saw that there were tears in his eyes too. "No, . .. . ..Danijela. I haven't felt this way about someone in years . . .Abby .. years. . . . I didn't think I'd ever feel it again . . . .and it scares the shit out of me. Don't go Abby . . .. don't leave me."

_Like Danijela_? She'd never seen him this way before, his eyes were wild, panicked. He'd always been so cool even in the worst traumas.

He pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck. She held him as he cried. "Shhhh. It's alright. Shhh"

After a moment, she pulled away gently and looked him in the eyes. "You scare the hell out of me too." She paused and took a deep breath. "I love you, Luka." It was almost inaudible. She took his face in her hands and kissed him as he let out a moan.

_How long has it been since I've heard those three words? Years, a decade, an eon. _ He pulled her tight and kissed her so long she began to feel dizzy. It wasn't enough, he wanted more of her, all of her. He pulled back reaching for the buttons on her blouse, but his fingers were shaking too much.

"To hell with it" he said and sent the buttons flying across the room with one deft move. A few minutes later she returned the favor. Eventually. they made it to their bed leaving a trail of discarded clothing in their wake. They climaxed together, hands clasped, eyes open.

After, holding her, Luka was embarrassed by the fierceness of his emotions.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?

"Maybe I was too , . . . intense."

"Probably not good first date material . . . . . but I'll keep you."

"You will?"

"I will."

He shifted his body, turning on his side so he could look down on her, see her face. "I love you Abby."

She reached up and ran a finger down his jaw line. "I'm glad . . .. . I'm very glad."

"Marry me."


	9. Love and Marriage

A/N: As always thank you so much for taking the time to review. I appreciate it so much. I think after this chapter I'll try to weave back into tptb's story. We'll see how it goes and where my muse takes me.

Spoiler Warning: Still my musings on 13:2.

Love and Marriage

"What?"

"Will you marry me?"

Abby pushed herself up to a sitting position pulling the sheet up over her. "I wasn't angling for a proposal."

"Angling? Of course you weren't."

"I just wanted to be sure we were on the same page."

"I skipped ahead a few pages huh?"

"Pages? More like a few chapters."

"You don't want to marry me?"

"It's not the **you** part . . it's the marry part. I don't know. I .. . don't want . . . .to . . ruin this."

"You think getting married would ruin it?"

"I don't know . . . ." _Luka's wife? . . . . . The way he was looking at her . . . . he's so . . . . . .._ "I don't think I can discuss this with you naked." She got out of bed and pulled the sheet around herself. Going to the dresser, she threw a t-shirt and boxers at him. "Put something on so I can think."

"Abby . . . .. "

"Look, I know you had a good experience being married. But . .. .I . . didn't."

He talked as he dressed still sitting on their bed. "I'm not Richard."

"I know that. but . . . .Richard and I. It wasn't always bad. I mean before we were married there was something .. .there. After . .. . it changed. I don't know I think . . I think . . .Richard had ideas about who and what his wife would be and . . . do. And it wasn't me. I don't want that with you . .. . . I don't want to disappoint you. And you . . you already have this idea of your wife . . .and it was Danijela . .. not me. . … I mean. .. I'm not going to change and start cooking 4 course dinners. . .or knitting booties . . . .. or I. . don't know . . . .Maybe . . .maybe we could just be in love for awhile?"

She was standing next to the bed wrapped in the sheet, looking like a very nervous, rather pregnant Aphrodite.

He knelt in front of her reaching out he stroked her arm. "Abby, I don't want you to be someone else. That's sort of the point of wanting to marry **you**. Isn't it?"

"Luka . . . . . . .can't we just enjoy this . . .for awhile . . … it's been hard enough to get here. I really don't want to rock our boat right now. And marriage, I don't know I think . . . .it would just . . . . change things. "

He sighed. _Don't force it_. "Okay. You're right. We shouldn't rush." He spoke with confidence. He leaned in to kiss her putting himself off balance a bit. So when she pushed him hard against his chest, he fell back onto the bed. "What?" he said taken by surprise.

"So, in less than five minutes you change your mind. You don't want to marry me?"

Luka ran his hand through his hair. "I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did."

"Hey, you're the one who doesn't want to get married, name the date, I'm there. Why would I propose and take it back?"

"I don't know. People do that."

"They do? What people."

"I don't know . .. . .just people."

"Well, not this person. It's a sitting invitation. Okay?"

Abby looked confused for a second then her eyes softened. "Standing."

"Whatever."

"Okay. Sorry."

"It's alright, come here." He took her hand and pulled her back onto their bed.

"Luka . .. I'm famished."

"Me too." He started to pull at the sheet."

"No . . I mean seriously. I'm starving. I forgot to eat when everything happened with Neela . . and then us . . . . . we're talking severe hypoglycemia."

He looked at her. "I'll throw something together while you put on something a little .. less distracting."

"Thanks."

When he got to the doorway he turned around. "Abby?"

"Yes?"

"When we do get married, I think we should write our own vows."

"You do?"

"Yes, I want to promise to love, honor, cherish and feed you."

The pillow glanced off his retreating back.

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They ate in relative silence. When they were finished, she was the one to break it.

"You're angry."

"No, I'm not . . . I was just . . . thinking."

"About?"

"Who proposed to you . . and took it back."

"Who says someone did?'

"Abby, you don't jump to that kind of a conclusion without history. So, I've been trying to figure out who it was. I eliminated Howie first thing, just a gut feeling."

"Good instinct."

"Not Richard . . . . you married him."

"No."

"I only know of two others, Jake and Carter. It wouldn't be Jake because rumor had it that you were the one that ended it, and he wasn't happy about it."

"I thought you didn't pay attention to hospital gossip."

"Sometimes I make exceptions."

"I see."

"So it was Carter, or someone I don't know about."

"You want to know?"

"You brought it up – must have been important."

"It was Carter."

"He proposed? Did it have something to do with your brother and the funeral."

"No, it happened before that. We'd just found out that Eric's plane was in one piece meaning he was alive, and I went up to the roof."

"Yes . . "

"And I told him he should run away because really, no one deserved the mess I was, the drinking, Eric, Maggie, everything. Then, he said he wanted me to stop putting my life on hold, and that he wanted to marry me."

"And you said . . .?"

"Nothing. I didn't really say anything. It was sort of something he just threw out there."

"So he just never brought it up again? Maybe he was waiting for you?"

"No, it gets uglier."

"Oh."

"So, a week later, he rents out an entire restaurant."

"A whole restaurant? For the two of you?"

"Yes and after dinner he starts talking about how we're growing and changing and well yada, yada, whatever. And, I say the magic words."

"What magic words?"

"I don't think people ever really change."

"So?"

"So he orders dessert."

"So?"

"So that's it. Until I find it."

"What?"

"When he was in another room, I was moving his jacket and a box fell out of the pocket. And inside it was a ring, very clearly an engagement ring. He changed his mind."

"Oh."

"Of course the irony is that after that I started pulling myself together – not that it mattered or that he noticed. In the end the break-up was the best thing because I did change, but not for John Carter or anyone else but myself. At first . . .I do think I was trying to prove something to him, going back to AA, quitting smoking **again**. Then, I just decided that if everyone else could go to Africa and "find themselves". I could find myself in Chicago. And, the first thing to do was to stop lying to myself about what I wanted."

"Med school?"

"Yes, and you've been very big not to say I told you so."

"I'm just glad you did it."

"Me too."

Luka paused, thinking. Abby studied him carefully. Finally, he spoke. "Before I was married my mother took us aside, and said we had to understand something if we were to have a happy marriage."

"Which was?"

"That women always change, and men never do."

Abby laughed. "I think I would have liked your mother."

"She would have loved you."

"You think?"

"Yes, I do."

"And do you think she was right?"

"I don't know. Probably in twenty years the things that I do that annoy you . . . I'll still be doing. "

"That's comforting."

"This is going to sound stupid, but I think people change, and they stay the same. It's being open to both that's most important. Look at us. I mean in the four years since we were last together – we've both changed, but there are things that are still the same. Don't you think?

"You have a point."

"Would you have said yes?"

"What?"

"To Carter?"

"Oh." Loaded question. "Honestly, I was in denial about so many things in my life, who I was, what I wanted and needed. I don't know. But I do know it would never have worked. It would have been Richard all over again. I would never have been good enough."

"Abby . . . . . ."

"It's true."

"I'm not Carter either."

"I know that. It's just . …. .it's . .. .a lot to know. . … .that someone can think that they love you and that they won't leave you .. . . …. But they do . . …. "

"Not always." _Not me_. "You loved him."

"I wanted to. I thought it would solve a lot of problems if I did. I'm not sure that's the same thing though."

"So, no regrets?"

"None"

"I probably shouldn't rent a restaurant when I try again?"

"Don't you dare. Luka . . I really liked the bed much better."

He laughed. "I guess I'll take that as a good sign."

"Well, you should. Speaking of that, I'm exhausted, and I want to check on Neela tomorrow. Do you mind if I just crawl into bed?'

"No, come on I'll walk you up."

When Abby was ready, he tucked her in and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. "I'll be up in a bit."

"Okay. Luka?" She rested her palm against his for a moment, and then they intertwined their fingers.

"Yeah?"

"I want you to know . . . .. .I'm really glad you asked me, even if I'm not there yet."

He kissed her forehead. "Me too."


	10. Tincture of Time

A/N: Many, many thanks for the response this fiction has generated. It has definitely been part of what has kept me writing. The intent of this chapter is to weave back into tptb's story. Consider the last two chapters as set at the end of The Hero Gallant and the Tragic Victor with my Neela/Abby scene replacing theirs. This chapter begins the morning after the proposal. Warning: There is again just a small hint of the 13.2 spoilers. Tincture of Time 

Abby slept like the dead, emotional exhaustion taking its toll. She woke to the sound of the alarm, Luka's body pressed into hers, his arm draped over her belly. He was tired too, the buzzing had yet to rouse him. She slipped out from under his arm, and turning off the alarm, decided to let him sleep as long as she could. She would shower before she woke him, but first she had a phone call to make.

"Good morning." She jumped at the sound of his voice, then smiled at him. He leaned in the doorway as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around herself.

"Hey sleepy head."

He reached out and touched the damp tendrils of hair on her neck. "I couldn't fall asleep last night. Kerry called while you were in the shower. She wants to see me ASAP about Clemente."

"Sorry."

"Not half as sorry as I am."

"I'm going to see Neela this morning. I talked to Ray. He's going to cover for me."

"Give her my best."

"I will. It's hard to know what to say to her."

"There's nothing you can say. Just be there. That's what she needs."

Abby nodded.

She let herself into the apartment quietly, not wanting to wake Neela if she were asleep. She found her sitting in front of the TV with a blank look on her face. Neela raised her eyes to Abby and clicked it off.

"Hi"

"Hi."

"I thought you might need a doctor this morning. Have you taken any Tylenol?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Did you get any sleep?"

"A little. I woke up at five and couldn't get back to sleep. I'm sorry about what I said last night – if I even remember everything I said last night."

"Don't worry about it. Feel like some breakfast?"

"No."

"Coffee? Tea?"

"Maybe in a bit. He sent me a tape."

"Michael?"

"Yes. He made it in case anything went wrong. Guess it couldn't have gone more wrong."

Abby sat down next to Neela on the sofa. "I'm so sorry."

"I know . . . me too. Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Ray's covering for me. He wants to help if he can. We all do."

"I know . .. . . .I just . . . there's nothing . . .nothing anyone can do. In the tape . . .Michael tells me to get married and have babies . . . . . . that he loves me . .. . . that he'll always be with me. How do I do this Abby? How? I did love him." Neela laid her head on Abby's shoulder, and Abby's arm went around her, stroking her hair.

"I know. I know you did . . you do. You're strong Neela, you'll get through this, but it will take time." _It is possible to love again, Luka found a way._

"While I was sleeping in another man's t-shirt, he was thinking about me and wanting me to be happy without him. I feel like such a terrible person."

"Neela, you didn't do anything. You didn't betray Michael."

"No? Then why do I feel like I did? I can't imagine ever getting married again. I can't imagine loving someone else enough to go through this again. I can't imagine making those vows again. I can't imagine feeling like this . . . again." Neela began to sob softly.

Abby sat quietly with her for a long time. _This is what he felt when Danijela died_. When Neela was quiet, Abby struggled to find words that might help.

"You loved him and it's normal that you feel this way. . your sadness . . .your grief. But . . . . in time . . . . . you might feel . . . .. differently . . . . . and when that happens . . . . . . it might help to know that it was what Michael wanted for you." _He loves me. He asked me to marry him._

"It's so hard to imagine feeling any other way."

"Give it time, Neela."

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Abby made her way into the ER slowly. She felt weighed down and by more than the baby. "Hey Ray, thanks for covering. What do we have?"

"How is she?"

"Sad."

"Yeah. Anything I can do?"

"I don't think so, not right now. She needs . . . .space. She knows you care Ray."

"But there must be something besides covering shifts that I can do. She's my best friend, Abby."

"Neela's feeling . . guilty."

"You know don't you?"

"A little."

"I didn't mean . . . .to make things harder for her."

"She knows that."

"You think?"

"Yes, I do. She doesn't blame you. She blames herself. That's why she needs you to give her space. If she were angry with you, it would be a lot easier for her."

"I wish she were. I wish she were angry with me. It would be easier for me than . . . . this . . .nothing."

Abby put her hand on his arm. "Why don't you sign out to me? We're all going to have to cover for Neela until she gets through this. You may as well go home while you can."

"Sure, thanks. You are now the proud owner of an asthmatic, a kidney stone and a probable MI." He stacked the charts one by one as he talked. He was flip, but he didn't smile.

"Fun. And Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for covering this morning."

"No problem, anything for Neela."

"Anything for Neela."

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Later, Abby found Luka in the lounge holding a cup of coffee and looking pensive.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"What? Waste my caffeine allotment on this crap? No thanks. How's your day?"

"Don't ask."

"Kerry?"

"And Anspaugh. They want to know what happened. All the ugly details."

"How is he?"

"Calmer, still rambling, a little delusional." Luka shook his head. "I don't know. I should have followed my gut . . . "

"It will be okay."

"I hope so. How's Neela?"

"Sad, angry, guilty, confused. Michael sent her a tape telling her he wants her to get married again, have children. She can't imagine . . . . .wanting to do that again . . . ever." Abby shook her head.

"Of course not . . it just happened. It takes time."

"That's what I said." She reached out and stroked his arm_. You went through this too, and then some . . .the children_. . . . . . Abby sighed. "Why does life always fall apart, just when you think you have it together?"

"Well, not everything is falling apart." He folded her in his arms.

She wrapped her arms around him, and he rested his head on hers. "No not everything." she agreed. "This is pretty good."

"Just pretty good?"

"It's nice."

"Nice?"

"More than nice?"

"Mmmhmmm. "

"Thank you."

"For?"

"Doing this again . . . with me."

He pulled back and looked her in the eye. "My pleasure. Abby, try not to let this all get to you too much."

"I know. It's just I can't help wondering what's next."

"What else could happen?"

"Oh, I don't know, pestilence, plague, famine?" She looked down and then up at him. "Luka, let's not screw this up."

"We won't, Abby. We won't."


	11. Open Your Eyes

A/N: This is my salute to 21 Guns – what a fantastic finale and cliff hanger from Zabel. I have really enjoyed supplementing the season. I hope you've enjoyed it as well. As always your reviews are welcome and appreciated. What else could I title it? Open Your Eyes 

Abby found him sitting at the table reading the paper, cup of coffee near-by.

"How long have you been up?"

"Awhile, couldn't fall back asleep."

"Again?"

"Again."

The phone rang, and Abby moved to answer it. "Who's calling at this hour? Don't get up. I'll get it. Hello."

"Abby? I got a message you called."

"Richard?" Luka looked up from his paper.

"Yeah, this a new number? Did you move?"

"Sort of."

"How do you sort of move?"

"Listen, Richard . . . . I have one of those things to tell you that people who were married before should probably tell the other person before they hear it from someone else."

"You're not defaulting on the loan? Because, Abby I have private school payments, braces. I can't . . . "

"No, Richard it's not that. I'm having a baby."

"You're kidding."

"No, of course I'm not kidding."

"What did you go with a sperm donor?"

"Nooooo. I don't know if you remember meeting Luka? You know that time you came to tell me about Maggie. In the lounge. . . . . ?"

"No .. . . oh wait . .. yeah, yeah, tall guy? You two got back together?"

"We did . . . . .. and we're very happy . . . . about the baby . . .and . . . . everything. And, I just thought you should know. I guess."

"That's great, Abby, it really is. I'm happy for you. You getting married?"

There was no way she was going there with him. "We're talking about it."

"I really hope you'll be happy. I mean it. Hope it works out for you this time. Got to run. Have to get the kids to school." She could hear children shouting in the background

"Right, take care. Bye." She was glad that was done.

Abby had been talking with her back to Luka, and when she turned around, she saw that he was watching her .. . . intently.

"What?" She asked.

"Richard?"

"Yeah, I just thought . . I should . . .tell him. . . .he told me . . . . you know when he was getting re-married. . . so . . I thought . . . . What?" He was still looking at her in a way that made her nervous.

"Nothing. Oh yeah, a package came yesterday . . . a baby gift."

"Oh?"

"It's over there." He nodded.

She read the card. It was from Carter. She looked in. "Wow, it's beautiful." She pulled out a long cloth in vibrant colors. "What is it?"

"The women use those in Africa to carry their babies."

"It's lovely material." She fingered it gently. For the first time Abby felt like a part of something bigger than just herself – joining the ranks of mothers all over the world. It wouldn't be long till she'd be holding her own baby. Sighing, she folded the cloth gently. Turning back, she saw Luka still watching her . . .intently and not happily.

"What?"

"You like it?"

"The gift? Of course. Although I'm not sure I see myself with the baby strapped to my back doing intubations."

"But you looked like you liked it . . .a lot."

"It's thoughtful . . to send something . . .from Africa . . isn't it?

"Yeah, Carter's thoughtful. Great guy."

"What?"

"Nothing."

She walked over towards him. "Are you angry about something?"

"No."

"No?"

"It's just. It's . . .you married Richard. You would have married Carter. But not me."

"We talked about this, Luka, I married Richard for the wrong reasons. And, I didn't say I would have married Carter for sure – only that I wasn't sure that I wouldn't have . . . .married him. . . . for the wrong reasons again . . . but for . . .. . different wrong reasons . . ."

"Because you weren't in a good space."

"Right."

"But you are now? In a good space?'

"Yes."

"And that's why you won't marry me?"

"Luka . . . " He stood up.

"I'm going to take a shower."

"I thought you were okay with this?'

"I thought I was too."

"Luka . .. . "

The door to the bathroom closed heavily behind him.

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The car ride to work was quiet, and things were rather chilly when she presented to him. She caught him midday.

"Hey, how about I buy you a hot chocolate?"

"Coffee."

"Okay, coffee."

They walked out to the roach coach in silence. She paid for the drinks and handed him his cup.

"I thought we said we weren't going to screw this up."

"Is that what I'm doing?"

"No . . . no . . .of course not. . .. making it difficult maybe. What is it? I really thought you were okay waiting on the marriage thing."

"I don't know, Abby. I just . .. I want it settled. I want us settled."

"I thought we were . . are."

"Are we?"

"You don't know?"

"I think you don't know."

"I know." She reached out and put her hand on his arm. Then she smiled playfully. "I know, but do you know that I know, and do I know that you know."

"Stop." He didn't want to be cajoled.

"I want this. I just don't want the wedding . . . . right now. Luka . . . . "

He took her hand, played with her fingers. "I can't help how I feel Abby."

Dropping her hand, he walked back into the ER. He couldn't explain it to her. He could hardly explain it to himself. After all a short time ago, he had been the one reassuring her. He was the optimist. But the last couple of weeks had been hard, he was stressed, and he was exhausted. He kept turning it over in his mind. What had happened with Clemente and Gallant reminded him how fragile life could be. How quickly things could change. He wanted something permanent. He wanted them to be permanent. Not that marriage was a guarantee, but it would be something they could hang onto when things got tough. And with a newborn and a residency, things were bound to get tough. So much for being in the moment, or maybe he was in the moment, and the moment was making him nervous. Sometimes he thought, it would be easier if he didn't love her so much. _Marry me, Abby_.

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Abby discovered long ago that being a pessimist was not without its merits. She was rarely surprised when things hit a snag. She didn't want to hurt him. But she couldn't rush into marriage with him just to please him either. She knew he'd been stressed ever since things with Clemente went haywire. And of course there was Neela and Michael. Luka knew what it meant to be a soldier. Abby wondered if Gallant's death had brought back his own memories. She had thought about asking him about it, but wasn't sure she was ready to know what he had seen when he had fought, or what he had done.

Then there was Kerry giving him a bad time, she knew he was worried about the fall out from Clemente. Still it wasn't his fault that Vic had lost it. Maybe she'd take him out for dinner .. even that Thai place he liked . . . . give him a back rub . . . .work up the energy for something more than a back-rub. The home stretch of her pregnancy had hit her like a ton of bricks, and she felt like she was carrying a ton of bricks around with her. Not exactly the most romantic couple of weeks they'd ever had . . . . ..

The one thing she was sure of was that neither one of them was going anywhere. That much she knew. Things would sort themselves out. There optimism wasn't so bad either.

Then everything changed.

"Something's wrong." Sam had looked back at her, called her Abigail.

"Something's wrong." She said it again. Then everything was wrong, and she dove for cover as gun shots raged over her head. When Abby stood up, she felt like she had cotton in her ears. She could hardly hear, and her head felt woozy and sore. She was sore all over. Much to her relief, she felt the baby give a little kick. She looked around her in utter disbelief. It was all so surreal. Then she saw Jerry. She did what she could, but she felt like her mind was moving slowly, and her hands wouldn't do what she wanted them to do. Abby's head ached, and she couldn't put things together. It was like staring at a puzzle, but with no clue how to arrange the pieces. _Where's Luka?_

She knew she should get checked out, but there were critical patients, Jerry and a cop. That must be where Luka was, or he'd be here helping . . checking on . . . . people. She was glad he'd been somewhere safe and not in the line of fire. He might have done something heroic and stupid. When Jerry was stable, she'd get looked at. Abby didn't want Ray and certainly not Morris, and Kerry needed to oversee things with Jerry. She wanted Luka. She could wait for him. She was staring at Jerry's x-ray's trying to make sense of what she was seeing, trying to make sense of what Morris was saying, but she couldn't. Well, at least she could be of some use, she could get another thoraseal. She felt a small kick again.

When she walked into trauma green, it happened. The baby shifted inside her. Suddenly, there was a pain like she'd never experienced. It was as if someone had taken a hot knife and thrust it into her uterus. She doubled over. She felt something warm trickle between her legs and wetness soak her panties then pants. When she could stand, she looked at her hand. Blood . . . she was bleeding . . .the baby. Her eyes clouded over, she couldn't see, her head was spinning. She reached out her hand to brace herself, felt the coolness of the glass .. . .. . … . the room spun, and everything went black . . . . .

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Luka was frustrated with Abby with Kerry, with life. He never seemed to be able to get purchase. Just when things seemed to be on an even keel, they fell apart. He shouldn't have pushed Abby like that. He had been willing to wait for her to be ready. He still was. He just . . he just wanted her to want what he wanted . . . to want him like he wanted her. He wanted it settled between them. And he had to admit it to himself, he'd been jealous. Reminded of Richard and Carter and feeling like they'd extracted, or almost had, promises from her he'd been unable to. And then there was this uneasy feeling he couldn't shake. Maybe it was seeing her walk towards his door that night. He'd reflexively acquiesced to her wanting not to rush. But in the days that had followed, he couldn't squelch the urgency he increasingly felt. Perhaps he was the one that was nesting.

And now with Kerry breathing down his neck, his job on the line, the board watching his department and him, he had this EMT wandering around, screwing up. He couldn't have any more screw-ups. He couldn't. Just what he needed was to tell Abby he'd lost his job. What a fuck-up. No sense tying herself to a man who couldn't even keep his job. So he'd gone to find Mary. Banged on the door, felt something was wrong and felt obligated to fix it. Which had led to his present condition of being unable to fix anything or do anything. Once he saw the gun, the adrenaline kicked in, and he acted more out of instinct than any rational thought.

Mercifully he'd passed out before the vec had stopped his breathing. He'd escaped the initial panic. It wasn't till Sam began to bag him that he came to his senses enough to realize what had happened to him. He could hear her talking, explaining to Steve what was wrong with him, forcing air into his lungs. He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't breathe. It was hell.

When they'd moved him to the guerney, she had to stop bagging him. He felt his air hunger grow, desperate for the next breath, like drowning except he couldn't struggle, couldn't fight, couldn't even try to live. _Don't let me die, Sam. I promised her I'd be there. I promised her she wouldn't have to do it alone. Don't let me die. I promised. I want to see my baby. I don't even know if I have a son or a daughter. Don't let me die._

If Luka had ever wondered about the importance of sedation before intubation, he didn't any more. The pressure in his mouth was frightening. He thought for a second she was going to break all his teeth. _Don't tork, don't tork . . lift. . . God I need air._ She pulled out in that second and gave him a breath. Then the metal was back in his mouth, and the pressure made him want to gag. The tube was raw down his throat, but then he had air again, she gave him air again. He was alive.

Steve grabbed her a moment later, and she was gone. There was no one to breathe for him. He would have to find a way himself. He had managed earlier to flutter his lids to see Sam looking down at him. If he could do that, maybe he could breathe. He would have to find a way. And miraculously he did. He lay in the dark with the tube in his throat and that was what he did, all he did, all he could do. He breathed. He lived.

In time he could move more of his body, his hands, which they'd tied, and then more and more. So that by the time he heard the gunfire, he no longer had to think about breathing. But he was helpless. Abby was out there, and it was his department . . his responsibility . . .. but he was here and strapped down .. powerless. .. . _Don't panic, it won't help, and it will only make it harder to breathe. She's somewhere safe. She is. She has to be_. His head pounded, his throat ached, his wrists were chaffed, he was exhausted, and he didn't care.

The police must be there. There were too many shots. Someone was firing back. In the silence that followed, he found if he moved his body, he could move the gurney. If he could bang on the door someone would find him. He would see her . .. . . he would know she was okay. He inched his way toward the door, his foot felt something solid, and he pushed against it – but succeeded only in moving himself back to where he started. _Back to where I started?_ _Where we started? _

_Where did I first see her? No, not in here, it was . . .trama green? Trauma yellow? She smiled at me. She has such a beautiful smile and those eyes. I introduced myself. I assumed she was a resident. And even though . . .there was something . . . with Carol . . I found myself glancing back as I left.. . . Did I know. . . even then did I know? Back to where I started_. .. . .. .

He saw her walk into the trauma room. She was there. She was fine. He took a deep breath. It would be okay. Then she stopped. No, something was wrong. He lifted his head to watch her. . to see her. But he couldn't . . . and then he could . . but it wasn't right . . it wasn't right. . . She was staring at something, something on her hand, and he realized what it was. . . blood. . no . . . no . . not. . . .. She was fading and her bloodied hand hit the glass . . her blood . . he could see it . . .. . on the glass . . on her hand . . he shook again . . and then she was gone . . out of his sight. . out of his reach . . . . . .

She was bleeding . . .Abby was bleeding . . .. . six feet away . . . . . . the woman he loved was bleeding . . . and there was nothing . . . nothing . . . nothing he could do . . . . Again. Back where he started . . . . back where he started . . .

Panic overtook him then, and this time he did nothing to stop it.


	12. Shards of Glass

A/N: I realize it is bad form to leave gaps in writing, but this chapter is going to pick up at the end of Bloodline. It was honestly so perfectly written and performed that I cannot think of one thing that was missing or one emotion or thought or feeling that the actors didn't make perfectly clear. The only thing missing was more . .. . . . .

Shards of Glass

He stood for a moment looking at his distorted image in the glass. Somehow it was appropriate. How he felt. Everything shifted dangerously out of place. Unreal. Maybe he'd wake up, roll over, and find her next to him sleeping, curled around her pregnant belly, her hair fanned over the pillows. He splashed his face with cold water, but he didn't wake up.

Luka left the bathroom and walked over to the nurse's station.

"There's some broken glass in the men's room. You should call housekeeping."

And with nothing further, he went back to her.

"They're going to move me soon."

"Postpartum?"

"No, I think Coburn wants me in ICU overnight. I tried to talk her out of it but . . . ."

"No that's good . .that's good. They can watch you more closely."

"Yeah that's what she said. You should go home . . .get some sleep . . it's going to be a long . . . few days . . . ." _or weeks or months_

"No. I'll check on him again, then I'm going to stay with you."

"Luka … . .go home."

"Abby." It came out sharp. He took a breath and started again. "Don't do that . . don't keep asking me to leave . .. "

She looked into his eyes. Had he been crying? She took his hand. "Sorry. You're right. Stay. But they're going to move me soon. Why don't you check on Joe, and then meet me there."

"Okay." He held her hand between his, and then he kissed it and left.

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"Kerry"

"Luka . . how's Abby?"

"She's fine … better. . they're going to observe her tonight in ICU. I want to stay with her . .. could you . . .. ..?"

"Consider it done. Have you eaten at all today?"

"No . . .not hungry." He looked down at his tiny son, stretching in his isolette. His only son. Ever.

"Luka, if you collapse you're not going to be much good to Abby or the baby."

"Joe."

Kerry smiled. "Joe, I like it. Good, strong name."

"That's what Abby said."

"I'm going to get you some food, and I'm going to listen to your lungs. And _then_ you can bunk with Abby."

He looked at her. He realized she was offering him a non-negotiable deal. "Okay."

She pulled a chair over for him. "I'll come back for you."

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About 30 minutes later, Kerry returned with Chuny. "Chuny's going to sit with Joe for a while, then Lily, and then Haleh will come in early. So you're covered for tonight. You and Abby don't have to worry. Joe won't be alone."

"You have my pager number?"

"Yeah, don't worry Luka." Chuny touched his arm.

"Thanks"

"Tell Abby we're all thinking about her."

"I will, thanks."

Chuny peered into the isolette. "Aw, he looks like you, Luka."

Luka smiled, but his voice wavered. "It's the Kovac hair."

Kerry put her hand on his back. "Come on, we'll go to my office."

He was grateful for that. He didn't think he could handle seeing people, answering questions. Luka managed a few bites of food. Before she let him leave, she listened to his lungs.

"Pretty good, a little expiratory wheezing in the upper lobes. I'll check again tomorrow."

"Kerry . . .. .thanks."

"Get some rest. And don't worry about the ER. I've got it."

"Thanks."

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He made his way to the ICU. He felt numb .. .and cold.

"Abby Lockhart's room?" He asked at the desk.

"Only immediate family members allowed. Are you her husband?"

How did he answer that? A nurse came up behind him. "Dr. Kovac?"

"Yes."

"Dr. Weaver just called. I've got a cot set up for you. We don't usually allow this, but when the Chief of Staff calls . . … .. ."

The nurse led him to her. She looked so incredibly small in the bed, her skin paler in this light. He walked over and took her hand.

"Any changes?" She asked.

"No."

"Maybe that's good. . . ."

He smiled. "Yeah .. .are you in pain?"

"No, they dosed my spinal. Tomorrow may be a different story. Will you . … . will you lie with me for a little bit?"

He said nothing, but gingerly got in the bed next to her. She was on her side, and he pressed in close behind her.

She began to cry. "I'm sorry . . I'm so sorry."

"Don't .. . . don't do that .. . ." He stroked her hair. "You were wonderful today . . .so brave….. … "

"He's going to make it . .. .he is, isn't he?"

He didn't know what to say. He licked his lips. He didn't know. But he couldn't say it . . . not to _her_. "He will …. he will … .. "

Abby couldn't believe how empty she felt. So entirely empty. The only warmth in her body came from him. She took his hand from her shoulder and kissed it.

"I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

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After she fell asleep, he removed himself carefully and lay in his cot. He couldn't remember the last time he was so exhausted, or maybe he could, but he didn't want to. His mind was turning things over and over, but in the end sleep claimed him.

_He was swimming in the ocean. It was warm. Marko was hanging on his back, Jasna swam right next to him. They were playing, laughing. Danijela called to them from the beach. And he waved and laughed, calling to her to join them. Suddenly the water changed, it grew colder and rougher, the waves began to pound. He reached out for Jasna, but she was gone. And then he put his hands up to feel Marko's arms. As he raised his arm, he felt Marko slip from his back. He dove under to find him. But he couldn't, they were both gone. Then he heard someone calling him from the shore. He struggled to get his head above water. It wasn't Danijela. It was Abby. She was waving at him to get out of the ocean, shouting for him to come to her. He started to swim toward the shore. But the harder he swam, the farther away he was. Rain began to pound. And then, the water began to turn red . . .red as blood . . . . ._

Luka sat bolt upright, shaking and sweating. Early morning light bathed the room. Abby still lay sleeping. They'd made it through the night. They'd all made it through the night.

He rubbed his face in his shaking hands. Then he went to check on Joe. He had some phone calls to make.


	13. The Vigil

A/N: This chapter weaves in and out through the same time period as Graduation Day. I'm sure there was a deleted Maggie/Luka moment, and I didn't want to wait till season 13 comes to DVD. Hope you enjoy.

The Vigil

Watching and waiting. That was what her life was now. Again. It wasn't new, but this was like experiencing it through a magnifying glass. She watched her son, she watched her mother, and she watched Luka. She waited for her son to get well . . or not, for the other shoe to drop with her mother, and she waited till her life with Luka could be more than watching and waiting. He felt so solid and strong. He could even make her laugh. Still. She wondered if he was as scared as she was. Then she caught him one day, watching Joe, everything naked on his face, in his eyes, till he looked up and saw her. He gave her a reassuring smile, a nod of his head. She knew he felt it all, felt everything she did. She smiled back, took his hand. So this was love, love in the trenches.

She slept. She ate. She hovered over her son. She was afraid. He was holding his own, but he wasn't improving. Experimental therapy. Luka wanted it. Maggie wanted it. She was just afraid of it. Maybe her fear was clouding her judgment. So she agreed. And, it worked. Joe made marked improvements every day. Until he didn't.

"He perfed." Just like Baby Jake. Like Baby Jake. Oh god.

She requested the Baptism, arranged it for him, for his family. He wouldn't have done it. Couldn't have done it. Didn't want to believe that this might be the only chance to do it.

"I don't want him to be alone." She said it to him again, and this time he made no argument. She couldn't be in there, she needed him to do it. So he did.

When it was over, he found her in Maggie's arms. She couldn't bear to watch, so she didn't know. She heard him come in the room and her eyes found his. There was pain, but not despair, not grief.

"They're done. He's stable."

She took a deep breath and felt like it was the first she'd taken in hours. She covered her face in her hands and wiped her tears. "Then we should be with him." He nodded. They walked in silence. She reached out and took his hand. It was all she could do, and it was enough for him.

"I'm staying here tonight" she said, looking down at her son. He was so small, so fragile, and he'd been through so much. She couldn't leave him. "Will you take Maggie home?"

"Yes."

Maggie interrupted. "No, honey I'll stay with you."

"No, Mom. I'm okay. You get some sleep. Please."

An hour later she felt a hand on her shoulder. He was back. She knew he would be. She hadn't even had to ask.

"How is he?"

"Stable off the vent now."

"Good that's good. Abby . . . . .I …. "

"Don't." She took his hand. "I know."

He kneeled down and looked into her eyes. "You're exhausted. Let me look for a call room. He'll need you tomorrow too."

She looked at Joe. Maybe he was right. He was holding his own now.

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They walked into the call room, looked at the narrow bed.

"You take it. I'll take the chair."

"You could go home."

"No."

She lay down then shifted to her side. "Then come here. I'll share."

He lay on his side facing her, the space was impossibly small, but he was glad she wanted him near. They shifted their bodies till she was more on top of him than the bed. She'd almost forgotten the feel of him under her.

Then she said it. She said it for her son, and she said it for the man lying with her. "He'll get through this. He will." Maybe Maggie was right. Maybe she had spent her whole life getting ready for this. This baby. This man. This life. If that were true, then he would live. Joe would live. They would be a family. She was the mother now. If she didn't believe it, who would?

Luka felt the sting of tears, but nodded. "He's a fighter." He couldn't bear to think about what would happen if he didn't pull through. He twined his fingers in her hair, listened to her breathe, and he prayed.

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Luka took the next day off work. He felt the responsibility for his son's complication like a physical weight. Not that she'd accused him. When he'd looked up at her during the surgery, he'd seen only fear. Like looking at a reflection in a mirror, but no blame. If Joe didn't make it . . . .. he just . . he didn't know. Even if she didn't blame him, he'd blame himself.

Maggie caught him alone with Joe. Stood for a moment watching him as his son's tiny hand curled around one of his fingers. She had wanted to reach out to him, but didn't know how, till now.

"This isn't your fault."

He looked at her, but said nothing.

"Abby knows that too. I don't know if she's told you that yet. Sometimes she just . .."

"Needs time."

Maggie smiled at him. "Yes. She loves you. I know she's not always easy . . . ."

"Neither am I."

"The best never are."

This made Luka smile. "It's a hard time."

"I know. I know it is. But I see you two. . . how you are. You're both fighters. Joe is too. That's what will see him through. See you all through." She stepped closer to him, looked him square in the eyes. "She's ready for this . . . I can see that. I'm glad though . .. I'm glad that she'll have you . . . . .. ..whatever happens."

His stomach lurched but Luka nodded. "Whatever happens. . . " He meant it, and they both knew it.

The vigil continued, but the worst never happened and by the end of the second day, they began to let it seep in that their son would live. When Abby smiled at him, really smiled at him, Luka exhaled.

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Each day was a little better than the one before, until Joe was ready to go home, and Maggie was ready to leave. Luka debated whether to go to the end of the year work festivities.

"Maybe I should stay?" he asked.

"No . . no you should go, tell everyone I say hi."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I . . I can manage by myself for a couple of hours. I'll have to do it some time. Go brag about our son. Just don't tell them that I'm a crazed, hormonal bitch."

"You are not."

"I cried for an hour this morning."

"More like ten minutes. You're exhausted, you were up every two hours last night."

"So were you."

"But only for a few minutes. You were up – what an hour each time?"

"Still. Thanks for the nap this afternoon and the shower. I feel like a new woman."

"You look like one too."

He bent down for a kiss that lingered, and she put her hand on his cheek. How long had it been? He sighed and kissed his son's downy head.

"You better get going."

"Be back in an hour."

"Yeah, right."

He grinned at her as he headed out the door.

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Maggie made Abby dinner, and they ate while Joe slept.

"I like him."

"Luka? I like him too."

"You know, he actually thanked me for coming before he left."

"Well, you've been a lot of help, Mom." Abby paused and smiled. "In an annoying sort of way.'' Maggie returned the smile. It was good to feel so at ease with one another.

"Last time I met him, I don't know he seemed sort of moody or something, but I like him. He cooks, changes diapers, clearly adores you, and really he's not _all _that bad looking." They shared a laugh.

Abby blushed. "Mom."

"Most important, he's got fire in his belly. He'll need it with you."

"Hey, I thought you were supposed to be on my side."

"I am. Are you going to marry him?"

"Mom"

"Well . . any fool can see that you're crazy about each other and . . . . you have a baby together . . ."

"It's not like marriage means forever. Look at me and Richard .. .look at you and Dad .. . "

"Still . . . . "

"Stop."

"Okay, okay. I'm going to finish packing."

The sound of Joe's cry wafted down the stairs. Luka had been right, no monitor needed. "There's Joe. I can't believe how often someone that small wants to eat."

"Just wait till he's a teenager, then you'll really see the food disappear."

Abby laughed, suddenly watching and waiting didn't seem so bad after all.


	14. Tired But Happy

For some reason, this one was hard to write, extra thanks this time to my beta readers, Claudia and Jenny. 

Thanks to all of you who read and comment as well. Hope you enjoy it. It's set at the end of Parenthood.

"Tired But Happy" 

She sank into the sofa and smiled to herself as he sang.

"_Should I stay or should I go now_?"

It was crazy. Her life was an endless stream of nursing, changing diapers, and burping, and she loved it. Go figure. She was tired, but happy, and so was he. A year ago they had been just friends . . .well not _jus_t friends .. .maybe never _just_ friends . . but friends, and now their lives were hopelessly intermingled. He paid the bills, she folded his laundry, he ran to the store for milk, she made the bed . .their bed . . .their refrigerator . . . .their . . baby. . well their everything. It was all so normal that it made her want to laugh out loud. Who would have thought it would be like this? That they would be like this.

She couldn't imagine her life without Joe - actually without either of them. Couldn't believe that she'd almost chosen not to do this, almost had it taken away. Was it all the sweeter because they'd almost lost him? She didn't know if every mother was so overwhelmed by what they felt for their baby, or if everything was heightened. Didn't matter. It just was.

The early weeks were a blur. The apartment was a mess, she was glad just to sneak in a shower, and if Luka had expected dinner on the table when he got home – well, he would have been disappointed. In time, things got better, she got into a rhythm with Joe, began to learn what his cries meant, when he needed her right away, when he could fuss for a few minutes, and then miraculously that sometimes he would actually fall asleep.

She looked around the apartment. That was another thing that made her smile: his things, her things, Joe's things all haphazardly strewn together. The sleek bachelor pad Luka had created was almost unrecognizable. It wasn't that it was slovenly, and she'd seen it like that too. It was just lived in, loved in. It was home. Interwoven, intermingled, inter . … . her mind drifted back, remembered the first time . . .well the most recent first time anyway.

"What if it's not the same?"

Luka stopped kissing her neck and looked at her. "Then it will be different." He resumed.

"Luka, I'm serious."

"Abby, don't think."

She opened her mouth to speak again, and he brought his lips down on hers softly. "Shhhh." His mouth began to trail down. She stopped thinking. Maybe it was different, maybe it wasn't, but it was nice, it was very nice. He had been gentle .. . but not too gentle . . . .and sweet . . . ..and. . …murmured to her in Croatian. . . . and . . .. . .

He'd stopped singing. Joe was quiet. She heard his footsteps on the stairs, and then he was back.

"The Clash?"

"What? " He flopped back on the sofa, next to her.

"I didn't know you were into the Clash."

"You left your CD in the car. You must be rubbing on me."

Abby laughed. _Not yet, but . . . _

"What? It worked."

"Worked for Mommy too."

"I put you to sleep too?"

"Oh no. You know, I once read that women get turned on when they see their partners being good fathers. I didn't really get it . .. . .but . . ." She straddled his lap, pulled at his tie, starting working the buttons. "Now I do."

Luka smiled. "I think it's the singing. Works every time."

It was Abby's turn to smile as he shifted her underneath him on the sofa. He was tired, but not _that_ tired.

"You should stay, you should definitely stay." She whispered and sinking her hands into his hair, she pulled his mouth down on hers.

Eventually, they'd moved to the bed, and now he was lying, holding her, listening to her breathe. She'd fallen asleep almost right away, her body pressed into his. He loved the feel of her skin. He sighed, content. A family. They were a family. Lovers too, when the stars were in alignment, and Joe slept while they were both awake and alert. He'd waited a long time for this.

He had thought a couple of times he might have a family again, people to take care of, Carol, Nicole, Sam. Nothing had been right or even real. All figments of his imagination, his loneliness. Till this. He finally had someone real, something real. Still, he'd almost lost it. It had almost been taken away again. Bloody hand on the window. He couldn't help her. He hadn't been able to protect her or Joe, but they had made it. Maybe even despite him. They lived. The sacrifice was the possibility of more children. That was the price. He hadn't wanted to pay it, but if it meant he could keep them, then so be it. After all, he'd given up on ever having the real thing, with anyone let alone her, but here she was. Here he was. It was home.

He could remember a time not all that long ago when he didn't even know where home was. In Africa, Carter had said he was sending him home. "Where's that?" he'd asked. He'd been serious. All he had then was a letter with her name on it pressed in his hands against his chest. Now he had her pressed into his chest. Who would have thought? Good things come to those who wait, so many good things. Joe. Abby. What more could he want?

To not be sued. He hated the idea of having to defend himself, explain things he'd done two years ago. He hadn't done anything wrong had he? If he deserved to be sued, and he probably did, it wasn't for that case. Bad things happen. He couldn't control everything. Could he? He moved his hand over her skin. Didn't want to think about what would happen if he lost. It wasn't just him now. It was _them_. They were counting on him.

Luka's eyes snapped open as his hand reached for her. She wasn't there. He must have fallen asleep. Sitting up in bed, he whispered. "Abby?" Then he heard her, noises in the nursery. He grabbed his boxers and a t-shirt and went to find them.

She sat in the rocker, nursing.

"Hey" he said sinking into the loveseat.

"Did we wake you?"

"Not really." He sat back, studying her. It was just good to be with them.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching you."

"Mmmm. You know if _I_ could be asleep, _I_ would be."

"I'll put him down when you're done if he doesn't go back to sleep. I don't have to be in till later tomorrow. You get some rest."

"Well since you have the hang of it."

"You better practice for when I'm not here."

"Practice?"

"The song."

"You're kidding."

"No. Come on."

Abby began. "Should I stay or should I go now."

Luka chimed in. "If I stay there will be trouble."

"If I go it will be double."

"So you got to let me know."

"Do I stay or do I go?"

He looked at her, spoke softly. "Stay."


	15. Not Guilty

A/N: For this one you have to step back in time. This is set at the end of Jigsaw - think Nanny interviews and Ames being creepy in the park. "Not Guilty" 

Luka tentatively stopped singing and held his breath. Joe was asleep . . . … .finally. No frog, no sleep. Apparently the singing alone didn't cut it anymore. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was bone tired. Trying to work and take care of Joe and work some more and search for a frog that Abby eventually realized must have been dropped at the park. He wanted bed. Bed and sleep. He crept out of the nursery as silently as he could.

Abby looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. It had been too long since she'd done something . .. special. Can't take things for granted . . .she'd learned that lesson . . .in a very unpleasant way . … …. maybe some music . . . . . . . ….

Luka walked into the bedroom and frowned.

Abby was still in the bathroom, so Luka called to the door. "What are you listening to?"

"Salsa."

"Salsa?"

She opened the door and leaned against the jam. "Yeah . . . .you seemed to be in the mood for something South American today. . . . "

He turned to face her and his jaw dropped. Black lace teddy, garter, nylons, heels. _Shit._

"Know how to salsa sailor?"

Luka swallowed hard. "Not really."

"Me either. But I think . . . ." she walked toward him, "you just get real close and move your hips."

He pulled her against him. "Like this?"

"Something like that anyway," she laughed.

"Nice outfit."

"Thanks."

"Haven't seen it in awhile."

"That's what I was thinking."

He bent down to kiss her and moved her toward the bed. He angled her down and pulled off his shirt before joining her there. Under, over, under, over, lips locked, hands moving. There was no time to waste. _Sleep Joe, sleep for Tata_, Luka thought. Then he stopped thinking, lost in the feeling, lost in her.

They lay pressed into one another. The light from the full moon lit their faces. She made lazy circles on his chest with her fingers and his fingers ran up and down the skin of her arm.

"So, after today I'm thinking we should stick to a babysitter." Abby spoke tentatively.

"Didn't like our choices?"

"Not much." She paused. "You?"

"No, not really."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure we can make it work. You, me and Joe."

Abby sighed. "Life's pretty good isn't it?"

Luka smiled. "No complaints."

"You know today in the park. I couldn't find my wallet and this guy just pays for my hot dog. Really nice."

Luka raised his eyebrows. "Guy?"

"Well, yeah but not like a young guy . .. .older . .. fatherly type .. you know . . .he'd hurt his arm . . off work . … just wanted to be nice . . .but that's my point . … ..life's good . … . "

"A good Samaritan?"

"Yeah. That must be where I lost that damn frog. I remember dropping it and the hot dog guy picked it up . .. . .so we had it then."

"Well, we can get another."

"Funny how attached babies can get to things."

"Jasna had a blanket."

"Yes?"

"For years we had to carry that thing around till she just had an edge of it . . .. …. .this satin edge, and she would finger it when she fell asleep."

She turned her head to look at him, his gaze was far away. She ran a finger down the side of his face, and he looked at her and smiled.

"You okay?"

He nodded.

She kissed him and whispered goodnight. He put his hand behind her head and brought her down for a deeper kiss. She snuggled against him and drifted off. As tired as he was, Luka didn't sleep. Life _was_ good. The nightmare of the trial was behind him. The verdict had gone his way. Ames hadn't been happy with that. He had hoped talking with him that night would have helped, but it didn't seem to. Ames still wanted to press his case, but Angela had assured him that would go no where. It was over. It really was over.

Luka walked along the beach. The sun shone so bright and the sand was warm under his feet. He looked ahead to where he could see Abby holding Joe, lifting him up to the sky. He smiled and started towards them. Cradling Joe, Abby looked up and seeing him, waved to him. She was waiting for him. Suddenly the sky was dark. He looked up and a cloud was blocking the sun, the wind kicked up, and he was cold. He looked at the water, it was no longer calm and blue, it was churning and black. He shifted his gaze to where he had last seen Abby and Joe. They weren't there. He felt the panic rise. He began to run and call their names. The fog had come in and he couldn't see . .. couldn't find them . . .and it was cold . . . .so cold . . . .

Luka sat up with a start, a cold sweat over his body. Abby lay still sleeping next to him. It had been a dream. Only a dream.


	16. Let it Snowglobe

A/N: Thanks for all the encouragement for continuing on. Here's a little luby Christmas gift. Happy Holidays.

"Let it Snowglobe"

"I was running to you. And I'll never let anything take this away."

The look on his face, the love, the pain, she wanted in that instant nothing more than to take away his pain, to wipe it clean. It brought her back to another moment .. . .years ago. He'd turned around from his locker that day . . .the pain . . she could feel his pain, and it broke her heart to see it. Yet she couldn't find words and couldn't reach for him, couldn't catch his arm, make him stop . . .press herself into him . .. .. take away the hurt . .. . .and replace with something else ……. some part of her. She'd done that, done it more than once. Then she'd only known one way to do it, a gesture, a touch, a look that let him know he could take her . . . .lose himself in her body . .. .. .. that she wanted him to. But that day she couldn't, and so she'd let him walk out into the night, only to see him return, bloody, closed, the shutters down over his eyes, arms folded over his heart, the moment to reach him gone, if it had ever existed in the first place.

A string of Christmas lights . . . . . his hand holding hers. . .. massaging her hand . . . . .eyes cast down. . . . . . .lonely . . ..longing . . .missing his children. She'd wanted to be ambivalent . . . .. craved ambivalence . . . .even wanted to wound him with it sometimes. But she couldn't find it in that moment, could rarely find a way to feel nothing. Instead there was her own longing to comfort him, to protect him, and for something she couldn't define, couldn't name. Nicole had said she didn't want him to be happy. She was half right. She _didn't_ want him to be happy with her. Nicole the mother of his child? It was wrong. It felt wrong. As if it couldn't be, but it was, and then it wasn't. Maybe because of her, because of what she'd said. She had told Nicole that it wasn't real, she'd always wondered if maybe she had made it unreal with her words. But, Luka had just told her she had been right. It hadn't been true . . .none of it had been true . . .until now .. .until her. What words were there to say to tell him that he was her truth too. If he had been running to her, she had been waiting for him. Words had never been her friend, and they betrayed her now.

"Did I mention how hot you look in antlers?"

A smile, a sigh, his hand on her head, he'd heard everything she couldn't say . . . . he'd heard it all . …. ..

They wrapped gifts, tucked their son in upstairs, and then under the Christmas lights they'd unwrapped each other. When he kissed her, she knew he wasn't losing himself in her, he was finding himself, and it made her weak in the knees. Definitely worth waiting for.

They lay together after, unwilling to move, to part. His head was nestled on her chest, his body keeping hers warm.

His mind drifted over the past weeks. His fear . . .all the mistakes he'd made. He had wanted to protect her. Didn't want her to worry. She was happy, happy with him, and he didn't want to burden her. It had been a mistake. He saw how big a mistake when he was talking to Angela. Ames had already proven he could make contact with his family not only in the park, but now he knew where they lived. He had to stop him, couldn't let him hurt Abby or Joe. A doorbell ringing, Abby answering the door, letting in the kind stranger, the Good Samaritan, and then what? He shuddered to think. So, he had told her. She'd been angry, but she'd been wrong. This wasn't about how he felt . . who they were . . . it was about Ames playing games. …. .now at least he knew Luka wasn't playing. He was serious. He didn't care about the restraining order, not really. Not if she could forgive him. He'd gladly stay away from Ames, if Ames would stay away from his family, their family.

Abby let her fingers run through his hair, languid, content. The last few weeks had been tough for them. She'd felt his withdrawal, tried to give him space, tried not to read too much into it. When he'd finally told her what it was about, she'd been furious.

"You have to tell me things."

"I do tell you things."

"Oh, come on, Luka . . ."

"I thought I could handle it. I realized you needed to know, and I told you."

"After how long?"

"It's not that simple. I just. . .I wanted you to be happy."

"Happy? Then talk to me. Don't pull this crap."

"Abby. …..it's not like that."

"I think it is like that."

"Look, I'm sorry."

She frowned at him, hands on her hips. shaking her head. "Okay …. Okay. Let's just deal with it. It's probably not going to be a problem, but we should tell the sitter. If he does anything else, you have to tell me." She looked him in the eye.

He nodded.

They'd reached a truce of sorts. The week passed with things slightly stilted, their rhythm off, watching each other, waiting for a sign that didn't seem to come. Familiar territory, but not a place either wanted to be. Ironically, the furniture they'd picked out together arrived when things were still tense. Abby had suggested some new things would make a good Christmas gift to one another. Black leather was fine and good, but it was Luka, not her, not them. The furniture was a good reminder. This was a bump in the road. They were in it for the long haul, together.

Abby sighed, and he lifted his head to look at her. "Warm enough?"

"Could you grab the blanket?"

He nodded and they shifted, leaning against the couch to look at the lights.

A wave of gratitude for everything she had flushed through her, took her back to Thanksgiving. At the end of the day, all she had wanted was home and her boys. Then she'd looked up, and there they were as if her wishing was enough to make them appear. Today, it had seemed so incredibly fragile what they'd built, and it scared her. Scared her to think she could lose him to his fear, his anger, his need to protect . . . .fiercely. They'd come too far to go back . . . .hadn't they? She'd waited too long for this to lose it. Waited too long for him.

Waiting for him. It explained a lot. She'd married Richard, but he wasn't meant to be the father of her child, a part of her had known that. Carter had told her he wanted her to stop putting her life on hold. Maybe it hadn't been on hold waiting for her mother or her brother. Maybe _she'd_ been on hold waiting for Luka . … or at least part of her .. . ..the part that was his.

She ran her fingers down his arm, and turned to look up into his face. She searched his eyes. There was nothing fragile there, nothing waiting to be broken, just a man, her man, waiting to be loved. What could be more right than that? She put a hand on his cheek, and he smiled at her.

_Tell him, tell him what he means to you._ Abby took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes, "Where did you put those antlers?"


	17. The Dark Side of the Moon

WARNING: Based on spoilers for the next episode. If you are unpsoiled, you probably don't want to read this. It starts with a leap in time and then back tracks through events from COM to the present. Ever since I saw the spoilers – scenes have been running through my mind. So here they are. 

The Dark Side of the Moon 

The night air stung. Cold. It was so cold. She was cold. Was he cold? At least he had had his coat on. Never got the chance to take it off.

Someone very official - at least he looked official - walked over to the officer she'd spoken to before. "Any change?"

"We think the hostage is still alive. … . .. "

She couldn't hear anything else. Her ears had stopped working. It felt like her heart had stopped beating. We _think, _we _think _he's still alive. He didn't _know_. She would know. Wouldn't she? If he were dead, would she know? Feel it somewhere. Her throat ached.

She couldn't stand it another minute. "Shouldn't you be doing something?"

They'd forgotten she was standing there.

"We're waiting for Mrs. Ames. She'll be here any moment."

She looked up at the building. The building where he was. ….. Time was doing funny things, moving incredibly slowly. Time. It had only been a few weeks ago . ..a few weeks ago . …. Christmas morning .. Joe's first Christmas. They'd done the usual thing of wrapping gifts only to unwrap them for him the next morning. Of course, the boxes and papers had been the most interesting part for Joe. That and the lights. All the lights.

"Here." Luka was smiling down at her as she sat on the couch and surveyed the mess of Christmas morning.

"What?"

"You forgot one."

It was a small box, but not too small. She smiled and eyed him as she opened it up. A silver necklace lay on red satin. She held it up, a large circle, a ring, on a chain.

"It's beautiful."

"You like it?"

She nodded. "Help me put it on?" She stood and lifted her hair as he fiddled with the clasp and then grazed her neck with his lips.

"Turn around, let me see."

She obliged. He nodded approving "I like it, suits you." He fingered the circle. "Rings . . . no beginning . . . no end."

"Sort of like the laundry." It was a quip. He didn't want a quip, she saw it in his face in an instant and regretted it.

He rolled his eyes and started to turn away. She grabbed his hand, and he paused, still half turned from her. She moved closer, and he turned towards her again. Smiling, she let her hand run from his stomach up his chest and then cupped his cheek.

"Thank you. I love it." She looked into his eyes, meant it.

He lowered his head and his mouth found hers.

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It was a few weeks ago. It was a lifetime ago. A car pulled up and a woman emerged. Mrs. Ames. ….. .. .And what would she do? Reason with Ames? He was beyond reason. She'd felt that, knew that. He wanted to hurt Luka. Make him pay …. . . .

She made her feet move, walked over to where the police were talking to the woman. A police officer in the distance began to talk through a bullhorn.

The officer turned to Abby as she approached. "Mrs. Ames, this is Mrs. Kovac."

Mrs Kovac? She wasn't, but she didn't correct him.

Mrs. Ames spoke quietly. "I'm sorry . . …We . . .we lived here .. . a long time ago .. …. He was . .. .he . . . .was different . . .. … .."

What was there to say? There wasn't time to figure it out because another officer came to escort Mrs. Ames toward the bullhorn.

She was so scared, so damn scared. Was he scared? Thinking of her.. . . of all the time they'd wasted …. . of the stupid arguments .. . … as if they mattered . .. as if any of those things really mattered . .. . .

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Days ago, the car was cold on the drive home, in more ways than one.

She'd been the one to break the silence. "I still can't believe Kerry's leaving."

"Yeah. . .. .good opportunity though."

"Yeah … .. .. .. . I . . .I wish you'd … I wish you'd told me. I mean we just went through this with Ames."

"That's not the same thing. This is my job, Abby. I'm the Chief of the Department. You're a resident. I can't tell you who I have to let go ……before I tell _them_. "

She pursed her lips. "It just . . .it feels … . .like you're holding back .. . when you don't tell me .. . .what's going on . .. . .. ."

"I'm holding back?" He was pissed. "Did you ever stop to think that firing Kerry would be hard for me . . .that I might want . ..some … . .support. . …. from you . . . ."

She cringed, looked down. She'd reacted from the gut, fear, frustration, disappointment.

She'd been hurt. He'd been hurt.

When the light turned red, she reached for his hand.

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They'd moved her back. Made her move back. She couldn't hear what was going on, could barely see. Don't give up Luka, don't you dare stop fighting. She knew he was a fighter. Yet, he'd let Ames take him into the building. Why? For her. For Joe.

_Fight him. Fight for me_.

Maybe he'd had enough of fighting, they'd been sparring all day. His attitude had left her slightly bemused but mostly annoyed. In the end though, he'd been right about more than Ames. He was right about . …. . .her father . . . _.her father_. She shook her head, still couldn't believe it. She had been wrong to make it personal. To give him the chance to . . …. .do what? Tell her after thirty years of not giving a fuck, he was curious. And, she'd told him . .. .about Joe … .her life . …. Damn him. Luka had been right. She'd missed it, missed it all. All she had wanted to do when she got home was talk to him. Tell him. Hear his voice. _Hear his voice . . . .._

She finally understood in a moment of blinding clarity. Luka would always put himself between her and trouble. He could do no less. He was the complete and utter opposite of her father. Her father had protected her from _nothing_. Luka was willing to protect her from _anything_.

_Joe needs you. I need you, damn it. Fight_.

She looked at her watch. Three hours. He'd had him for three hours. Luka . …. .

Four hours ago she'd walked into their home, and he'd been there, waiting. Luka had been right to be afraid. And she . . .she had been wrong, again. She'd been afraid of what Luka would do . . . . she should have been more afraid what Ames would do. He'd seen it, felt it. He had seemed so harmless in the park. Now, he was waving a gun at her and Joe. She felt herself hold Joe tighter.

"Call your husband. Call him now!" It wasn't the first time he'd said it, and this time he shouted. She had tried to make excuses to get him to leave, but he didn't, he just got angrier.

Joe began to wail. Ames had a crazed gleam in his eye. A look she'd never seen before, it scared her. She had dealt with mentally ill people, irrational people. But, this was different, this was evil. He would hurt Joe. She knew it, felt it. He would. So she'd called . .. . .. she'd done it . .. brought him home .. . .to this man . . . . .to this fate . .. . .. . Maybe he'd never forgive her. Maybe it would be a moot point whether he _would have_ forgiven her. Maybe she'd never forgive herself. She hadn't known what else to do. Joe. . . there was Joe. She'd wanted to find a way to warn Luka, edged toward the window. But too late, it was too late, and he walked in.

He saw her first, took in her face. Knew something was horribly wrong.

"Abby?" Then he saw him. His jaw clenched and his fists. He stared at Ames for a long moment then back to her. "Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head the tears spilling out. Joe fussed, and she jiggled him in her arms.

Then he turned to Ames. "What do you want?'

"I told you, Luka. I want my life back."

"So, you come to my home with a gun? How's that going to give you back your life?" He was walking towards Ames.

Ames raised the gun. "That's close enough, Luka. Let's keep this friendly."

Abby sucked in her breath, and Luka stopped. He was between her and Ames now, and she realized that had been the point.

"You said you wouldn't hurt my family."

"I haven't."

"This is between you and me."

"That's right, Luka."

"Then let them go."

"No, no, Luka. You see, it's you and me that's going."

"Where?"

"You'll see." Then his strange politeness faded. "Time to go."

"Okay."

"No." It was her own voice, strange to her ears. She didn't sound right.

Luka turned to face her. He nodded. "Yes, Abby."

"No." She said it again, shaking her head.

"You have to take care of Joe." He looked her dead in the eye.

She knew it was true, and she closed her eyes to stop from screaming. She heard him whispering in Croatian close, so close. When she opened her eyes, she saw he had his hand on Joe's head, talking to him . . … . then he kissed him.

"Come on, Luka." Ames was getting agitated.

"In a minute." Luka tossed over his shoulder.

When he turned his eyes to her, she shook her head again.

"I'll be fine." He said. But she knew he didn't believe it. Then she felt his hand in her hair, his lips brushing her forehead. "I've loved this . . .. . . .all of this."

She gasped. Tried to speak, but his name came out in a whisper "Luka . . ."

"I know." he said. "_I know_."

He looked at her one last time, and all she could see was love, no fear, just love, and then sadness. And something more, something that scared her. Resignation. She shook her head again. Say something, but her throat was closed off. She had no voice.

Then he turned and walked out the door with a gun in his back. Walked away from her . . . .for her .. . .for Joe.

_Luka . . . . .. .. . ._


	18. The Space Between

This one starts back a bit with Luka's POV from Let it Snowglobe, then moves forward through Ames (which happens a little differently here to jive with my previous chapter) and beyond. As always my sincere thanks to my beta reader who manages to save me from myself most of the time, and to everyone who takes the time to review. I really appreciate the feedback.   
The Space Between 

He closed his eyes, listened to her heart beat. Fast at first, slower now, rhythmic, soothing. He pressed himself into her, warm because of her. He ran his fingers down her body, and it occurred to him that if he ever lost his sight, he'd know her by touch.. . .taste . . .smell. He had never known a woman's body the way he knew hers. Destiny. That's what he had tried to tell her … .how he felt. There was no where else he'd rather be .. could be . . .and feel what he felt with her. He knew what he had. He could feel her hands in his hair and on his back, soft, gentle, familiar. She knew him too . . . . . He sighed. Did she shiver?

He lifted his head. "Warm enough?"

"Could you grab the blanket?"

He settled in, wrapping a blanket around them, leaning against the couch, Abby leaned against him. The tree was beautiful. He toyed with her fingers, her hand disappeared in his.

He felt her draw in her breath, tilt her head to him. She looked as if she had something very important to say.

"Where did you put those antlers?"

He looked down into her eyes, amused till he saw what was in them. Not lust. No, he'd seen that all too often in vacant eyes in vacant women. There was a time he thought that's all he'd ever see. It wasn't desire either, although that was there too. When he looked into her eyes that night she'd come to him . . again. .after he kissed her, he saw it then . .no . . not love . . . .but that she _could_ love him. But now, he saw that she did. She loved him, whatever mistakes he'd made. What more could he want? He smiled at her.

"Shall I find them?"

"Never mind. I don't think we need them."

They both laughed and the blanket slipped from her shoulders as she turned to face him.

"Beautiful," he said, tracing the curve of her throat, the nape of her neck, her shoulders, sliding down her arms.

"Merry Christmas."

"Mmmmhmmm," he murmured as his lips found her throat.

"Are those your antlers? Or are you just glad to see me?"

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She was angry. Angry about Kerry. Angry he hadn't told her. Didn't seem to understand he couldn't. It was his decision. It _had_ to be his decision. Kerry had the right to be the first to hear it. Didn't she? And, would it kill Abby to give him some support? To choose him for once? He wanted that, wanted it more than he had realized. Maybe she didn't feel what he felt. She loved him, he knew that, but damn it, he wished she'd feel for him what he felt for her.

Still she'd "forgiven him", stopped being angry. They'd sort of made up. Sort of because he was still waiting. Maybe he'd always be waiting, maybe she couldn't feel what he did. That there could be no one else .. . . till death do us part. . . . .she might never want that . . . . but he did. He wanted it.

"Who is this guy?" They'd fought again that morning. He'd never heard her make work calls from home. Eddie. He'd bothered Luka from the first time he met him. Too friendly, too curious . . too _interested_. He didn't like the way he looked at Abby, as if he had some sort of claim on her. Right to know things about her, about Joe, about them all. Some guy in a bar. And worse, Abby was feeding it. Was she as interested in that guy as he was in her? If she was, why? She'd asked him if he was jealous and he'd said no. He wasn't. Not in _that_ way . . . or was he? He didn't know, and he didn't like it.

And then there was Pratt. What a crappy day. He was trying to arrange bail when she'd called. Something wasn't right. He could hear it in her voice. Come home. She wanted him home. So he went.

He was surprised, and he wasn't to find Ames there. He'd told himself he taken care of it, had been lulled with the passage of time. But, he'd seen the look in Ames' eyes. That was why he had threatened him. Like with like. And now Ames _was_ near his family, holding a gun. Shit. What had he done?

He had to know if she'd been hurt, if Ames had hurt her. He felt a wave of nausea pass through him. But no, she'd shaken her head, no. She was okay. Joe was okay. He'd come home in time. He closed his eyes for a second before he could speak. All he wanted was to get Ames away from them. Once that was done, he could think. Ames had him drive his car, gun pointing at his head. Ames was angry, he was unpredictable, but would he really kill him in cold blood? There must be a way to reason with him, talk him down out of this state he was in. Luka just had to bide his time. Abby would call the police. He could get out of this. He just had to keep his head. Keep Ames away from Abby and Joe till the police could come. It would be okay. He could do this.

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Luka screamed. He thought he would be sick from the pain. He didn't know how long it was before the crank stopped turning, started going the other way. A minute? Two? Ten? It didn't matter. He had sunk to his knees, blinded with the agony. And he'd missed his chance. His chance to fight. He could feel it. It had been a calculated decision, the safest thing for Abby and for Joe. He was willing to die for them. There was no question. But, he wanted to live for them. _Abby_. He tried to look up and the butt of a gun struck him. He blacked out with the pain.

There were lights coming from down in the street now. The police? He didn't know. How long had he been out? He could hear a voice. They were trying to talk to Ames. Ames looked upset. Then he heard a woman's voice. Ames' eyes filled with tears.

He was muttering. "They brought her into it. No, no, no." Shaking his head, agitated. He looked at Luka, saw he was awake and spoke. "Stand up."

Luka forced himself to stand. There had to be a way out. "Curtis, listen to me, you don't your kids to think of you this way. To know that you . . "

"Killed someone. What about your boy?'

"What?"

"He'll have to know what you did?'

Luka shook his head. "Why are you doing this?"

"I lost everything. Someone has to pay. You have to pay."

"Look …I made. . .I made mistakes. You're right I should have heard the murmur. I should have done things differently. I'm not perfect. I tried … .I was doing my best . …If I could change it. If I could fix it I would . .I would.. . . .but I can't. … "

Ames was taking it in, shaking, tearing. "Why didn't you say that before?"

" I don't know . . .I don't know .. . . It's not easy to feel responsible . . for someone else's pain . .. . it's not easy . . ."

Ames raised the gun. He was so close, and Luka had backed himself into a wall. The gun was leveled at his heart and from this distance . . . . his odds of survival were non-existent even with the police right outside. He had come close to dying before, even after the war. The first time in Africa with Carter, he'd had a gun pointed at his head, and all he had felt was anger. The second time, hands tied, in line to be shot, he'd felt . . . . . ready .. … .like it would be a release from the agony his body had become. Now, he didn't want to die. He wanted to live. He needed more time. He wasn't ready. _Dear God, not yet .. . . not now_. His hand throbbed, broken and bruised, and still he raised them, shook his head.

He closed his eyes.

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The cold air hit him like a smack in the face. Nothing felt real. Until he saw her.

"Luka." She threw herself at him, winding her arms around his neck. He staggered back a little, one hand wound around her, clutching her, one hand throbbed painfully, but it didn't matter it didn't matter one bit. He rocked her slowly back and forth, back and forth. She was here. She was real. The only reality that mattered right now.

He didn't know how long they stood there, locked together.

"Dr. Kovac .. . sorry . . we'll need . . a statement from you. . . and it looks like you better get that hand looked at . . we have paramedics .. . ."

Abby pulled back and looked at him, saw the bruise on his face, and then the hand. She took it in her own.

"God, Luka what did he do?"

Luka swallowed. It felt like a lifetime since he'd spoken. "Vise."

He saw her eyes grow wide, she licked her lips. "We're getting you to County now."

"The ambulance is over there, Mrs. Kovac."

"I . . I have my car."

"I don't need an ambulance, I'll go with you." Luka said looking at her. Abby nodded.

"I'll have one of the officers drive you."

"That's not necessary." She protested.'

"You've both had a shock. Not a good time to be driving."

They rode together in the back, his arm heavy around her shoulder.

"Are you in pain?" 

"It's not so bad now . . more . … . ….numb . . . "

_Shit._ "Are you hurt anywhere else? I mean besides your face."

"No. Joe? Where's Joe?"

"Louise has him. I'll call from the hospital. He's fine . . he's fine." Luka nodded and resting his head on the window, he closed his eyes.

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His arm was still around her when they walked into the ER.

Morris reached them first. Abby spoke before he could. "I need a room, get Ortho down here, and we need a hand x-ray stat … have plastics come, he might need stitches.'

"Suture room's open." Morris said, mouth agape. He followed them down the hall.

When they reached the door, Abby turned and looked Morris in the eye. "I've got this."

He shook his head. "Abby . . ."

"I've got it Morris, just get us an x-ray and Ortho here stat. Make it – what's his name? The hand guy. Reed I think. Tell him it's Luka . .. and to get his ass in here .. . ."

"What happened?"

As she shut the door, she hissed at him. "Ames crushed his hand . . .he crushed it."

She turned to Luka, took a deep breath and smiled. "Here let's get your coat off. We'll have to be careful." Luka winced.

"Damn . … pain med. I'll get you something."

"No .. no . .let's wait for Ortho .. .see what they want to do .. .I'm okay . .. You should go, Abby. Be with Joe."

"Joe's fine."

"Abby . . "

"What would you want to do if it was me?"

Luka looked at her, took it in, nodded. She was taking things out of cabinets. Setting up to clean his wounds. She felt like she was moving through water, everything a bit surreal . . but he was alive, and the rest they'd get through. _A vise? A fucking vise?_

Her hands shook as she worked, but they both pretended not to notice. "I'm not sure if you'll need stitches. We'll let plastics decide." 

He nodded. Couldn't think. Felt numb. Except for the hand which alternated throbbing and nothingness. He didn't know what was worse. What if he never felt anything with it again?

She finished his hand and looked him in the eyes. Then she pressed her face into his neck and leaned into him. "I'm sorry . .. "

"Don't do that, Abby. It's not your fault . . . .you did the right thing . . .the only thing. You didn't have a choice. I .. .I'm glad you did." The thought of Ames unleashing his bitterness on Abby and Joe . .. …… .He put his arm around her, pulled her closer, let his good hand sink into her hair. It could have been worse. It could have been so much worse.

Malik opened the door pushing a wheel chair. "Sorry. X-ray's ready for you. Ortho's on their way. They want the films first anyway."

"Thanks, Malik. I'll take him."

Luka looked at the wheelchair and frowned. Then he looked at Abby's face. She didn't need him to make it harder than it already was. He sat down. He wanted this over. He wanted to be home. He felt her hand on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze before they began to move.

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The early morning light lit up her face as she hovered above him. So, beautiful. He was so damn lucky. It wasn't the first morning he'd woken early, unable to sleep, tossing and turning for a time till either he would give in and reach for her, or he would feel her press her body into him, offering . . . ….. .requesting. Her body glistened, damp from their love making. She sighed and bent over to kiss his chest, then she sat back up and smiled at him. His left hand was on her hip. He lifted his right to sweep away a wayward strand of hair. Then he remembered and dropped it back to the bed. Useless in it's splint. He turned his head away from her. She lay down next to him pressing her face into his neck, arm and leg swung over him.

"Does it hurt?"

"To not be able to touch you? Yes."

He turned to look at her.

"I meant your hand."

"Not so much anymore. Not now."

Her hand slid over him and down over his injured hand. "It will get better."

"I think this is what he really wanted, even more than to kill me. He wanted me to know what it was like to not be able to do my work, dress my child . . .touch you. He wanted me to be . . .him."

She pulled away from him, looked him in the eye, was emphatic. "You're not _him_. This doesn't change you. . . not who you are. No matter what happens."

"If I can't work . .. ."

"Then we'll figure something out . . . It will be fine." Her voice was harsh. She was afraid. . . .for him . . .for them.

"You're right it will be fine." He tried to believe it.

She spoke gently now. "Ames didn't lose everything because of his arm, and you know it. He lost it because he let it eat at him . . .till no one could be around him. We can get past this whatever . . .happens . . .we can, Luka. I love you.. . . "

He gazed at her, repeated what he wanted. . needed to be true. "We can get past it. I won't lose this."

"_We_ won't lose this." She studied him as the morning sun began to light up the room, and his eyes shifted from grey to green.


	19. Come Grow Old with Me

While we're waiting for April 12th, it's short and sweet. Hope you like it.

Come Grow Old With Me

She couldn't stop thinking about it. What it would be like to be without him. From the night he was taken, something had changed for her. She had known she loved him. That had been easy. She hadn't really had a choice in it. It just was. But now she knew she needed him. She hadn't wanted that. Needing was scary. Needing was ., . .. . .Well it was .. . . . needy. Or was it? She didn't feel needy. Could function without him. She wasn't dependent on him, or was she? But she couldn't imagine what her life would be like without him? If she didn't have him? If Joe didn't have him?

When he finally slept, that first day home, she'd watched him. Couldn't help herself. It was so nice to . … . .see him . .. . .look at him. . .. know he was there .. . . alive. She watched him, and she felt the fear creep in. She was afraid he'd retreat, distance himself from her. She'd seen him do it before. Knew when he was in pain, that was his instinct, retreat, hide. .. disappear. But he didn't. He talked, he told her what had happened. He was still .. .. there. .. . the only thing that seemed unchanged from all those years ago, was the release he seemed to find in making love with her. She hadn't lost him that night, not in any way. But she was still scared. Needing someone had never worked out very well for her before . .. .. .

He'd slept most of that first day and the night out of exhaustion and the pain medication. When he finally woke the next morning, she cooked him breakfast. He'd raised her eyebrows when she suggested it.

"You're gonna make breakfast?"

"I can make breakfast."

"I'm sure you can. But you never do."

She frowned at him. "Hold your son," and hoisted Joe into his good arm. Luka looked down at him and started talking in Croatian.

"And just what are you telling him?"

"I'm telling him that hell must have frozen over. His mother is cooking."

She shook her head at him and laughed. He was making jokes ….already. Her heart swelled and her eyes filled, and she turned away mumbling something to send him where he couldn't see her.

She had to tell him. She knew she did. So after they ate she just said it.

"Luka . . … ."

"Hmmm?"

"The other night .. . .before I came home . . .before I found . . Ames here . . "

"Yes?"

"I tracked down Eddie at this bar near downtown."

"Why?"

"I wanted . . .I wanted . . .to tell him he needed to . . . . .he's sick. It . . .it doesn't matter why. He told me . . . …"

"What?"

"He's my father."

"What?" Luka nearly choked on his last sip of coffee.

"Yeah, I know."

"What happened?"

"I told him to leave me alone. And, I got into a cab and drove off."

Luka nodded.

Abby frowned.

"It must have been . . .a shock."

"Unreal. You know it's like, I felt like I knew him . .. like he was familiar somehow or something. . . and I wanted to help him . . and I didn't know why .. . . . .and then I find out . … and I just wanted . .. to get as far away from him . .as I could ….. . I was so. ….."

"Angry?"

"Angry .. . freaked out.. ... .. mad at Maggie for telling him where I was and not telling me. . . . . mad at myself for going there. .. .. . . .. for not listening to you .. . . . "

He left his own chair, came and knelt in front of her and put a hand on her cheek.

"It was a bad night."

She nodded and looking into his eyes, the tears came. The first tears since it had all happened. Just one or two rolled down her cheek first, and then she was in his arms and sobbing. Sobbing for them all. He held her and rocked her.

"It's okay. It will be okay."

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As the days went by, his hand healed, he stopped waking at night. And the fatigue around his eyes began to fade. But, still she couldn't get it out of her mind, needing him . .. . .wanting him . .. . . . loving him. She'd been thinking about it since that night .. "A man's taken my husband." Was that what he was? And then the question came from Simon "Have you ever wanted to do something that just scared the hell out of you? But you knew you had to do it?" She did know. What she wanted. Who she wanted. Not just today or tomorrow…… but….to grow old with .. . . be with….. for her life. Being afraid. Pushing away before the inevitable hurt, it had been a way of life. But not this time, not this time with him. She'd resisted the urge every time it had surfaced. She'd let him in, trusted him even when the doubts had come, she'd told him. . .given him the chance to take the doubt away. Which he'd done, every time. Maybe this time it was her turn to do it, take the doubt away. Tell him what she wanted.

By the time she made it home, she couldn't wait another minute. No more coulda, woulda, shoulda. Not for her. Not for them.

"Ask me. Ask me again." He looked at her. Wanted her to say it, not just for him, but for herself as well. "Ask me to marry you." She blushed, felt all of 16. He was smiling, and then he was standing and pulling her up. She giggled as he went down on his knee.

He almost couldn't believe it. The first time she'd said it, he'd doubted his ears, the second time he knew, but he wanted her to say it. Now he needed to find the words. . … . . .the right words. Later, he never was sure what he had said. Had he told her he loved her? He was pretty sure he had. Told her she was his best friend,. .. . . maybe the best friend he'd ever had? He was less sure he'd made that come out. What he was certain of was that nothing he could have said would have conveyed everything he felt that night, holding her hands, looking up at her. She was aglow . .beautiful.. . and she was his . .. . . . .

In the end the question was simple. "Abby, will you marry me .. . . .be my wife?" It was the best proposal she'd ever heard.

She looked at him for a moment, then joined him on her knees, and took his face between her hands. If the question was simple, the answer was even more so.

"Yes."


	20. Ring Policy

Warning: Based loosely on spoilers for upcoming episodes. 

My thanks to Myrtus for her encouragement and helping me find my muse. Oddly enough the dialogue was inspired by an episode of Get Smart. Go figure.

Ring Policy 

Luka rolled over and watched her sleep. He was in love with a woman who had a "ring policy". Oh, not the ring policy you might guess. Not the policy that said you had to spend a year's income on the ring or that you had to call out the police, army and National Guard if you lost it. Or that some sort of exorcism or blessing had to be performed on a new one to make it count. . .or save the marriage from certain doom. No, her ring policy was that if it happened to get lost, it wouldn't matter. No big deal. Life. . .and love go on.. . .externals didn't matter. It was the love between them that was important. A ring or no ring wouldn't make or break their marriage. Neither would the ceremony.

He'd given her the job of planning it. But she wasn't. He knew that much. Oh, she was looking at Bridal magazines. She had admired a dress or two. But so far the only thing she seemed to know was what she didn't want. No backyard ceremonies like with Richard, as if they had a backyard anyway, and no Church. That was fine with him. But it was hard to plan a honeymoon when you had no idea when you were getting married, which he had told her after Joe was asleep, and they had finished dinner.

She looked at him and shrugged. "I can't know when till I know where."

"Well, when will you know where?"

"When I know how and who."

"What?"

"Not what. How and who." She was laughing at the confusion etched on his face.

"Who?"

"Yeah, who we want to invite."

"Oh. Have you told your mother?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"I thought things were going well with Maggie."

"They were. They are. I mean she was great with Joe, and she's been fine. It's just. . .. "

"Just?"

"Well, dealing with Hope and her …. . binder of .. .insanity .. ."

"Binder of insanity?"

"She's got this huge binder full of . . .. .wedding propaganda.. .she keeps trying to show me . .. . it's weird.. . . and it's enough. I can't handle Maggie too. If I tell her we're getting married, she'll start sewing my wedding gown, and I don't know.. .. knitting you a tux… or something ….scary …like that.. . "

"Knitting me a tux? How do you knit a tux?"

"My point exactly."

"Your point?"

"Exactly."

"I have no clue what we're talking about."

"Our wedding."

"Which will be when?"

"When I know where, how and who."

"Not that again. . . . . . . "

"Do you want your family there?"

"At our wedding?"

"Yes at our wedding."

"They don't like to travel."

"We could go to them."

"Get married in Croatia?"

"Yes, that would solve the where and the who."

"But what about our friends?"

"I don't think we can fly them to Croatia."

"Don't you want our friends at our wedding?"

"Well. … . yeah. . .maybe .. . .You don't want to get married in Croatia?"

"I want to get married at home."

She looked at him, surprised for a second before she smiled. "Home's good."

He reached for her wrist and pulled her in close. "So, now we know where and who. .. tell me. .. . . . when . ….. "

"Who told me where, but when still depends on how. . . . . .. " Her mouth curved into a teasing smile as she pressed into him and let her hands slide up his chest. 

Understanding that some things are futile, and finding that the nearness of her lips brought new and more interesting questions to his mind . .. the conversation ended.. . and a new topic was brought to the table or rather _on_ the table.

So, that left him lying in bed that night, gazing at his betrothed and feeling quite lucky to have such a complicated and compelling fiancé. Sometimes in life you just have to be patient . .. . .. and sometimes you just have to take action. The trick is of course in knowing when you should do one and when the other. Luka got up and walked over to the dresser where some coins lay in a bowl. He picked up a nickel and looked at. He tossed it in the air and caught it, slapping it on his wrist. As he lifted his cupped hand, he saw it was heads. And he smiled.


	21. How Do I Love Thee

A/N You didn't think I'd skip the wedding did you? The wedding stands as is – because it was so very Luka and Abby, and so very lovely. This one picks up where the last chapter left off, then weaves in Family Business and then we find out what happened after the wedding. . . . . . . as if you didn't know ; )

"How Do I Love Thee"

Heads. It was heads. So, action, not patience. He smiled then grimaced. It was a risk, but it had always been a risk being with her. He had made mistakes in the past, so many mistakes, too many. He'd stayed when he should have left, he'd left when he should have stayed. He hadn't said what he meant, and God knows he hadn't meant some of the things he'd said. He'd lied when he should have told her the truth. He'd told the truth when maybe he shouldn't have. He'd screwed it up so badly, he had given up on a second chance to make things right. But, by some miracle she'd come to him one night. She'd come, and she'd cried. In front of him. And in that moment, he knew, really understood how far they'd come, even more importantly he knew too - or thought he knew - how far they could go. For a long time they had been on different paths, but it was as if in one moment they had reached the same intersection at the same time, and there was nothing left to do but collide.

Even so, he had managed to come perilously close to losing her. They'd walked away as "friends" the next day. Worse, he had almost put off telling her how he felt for too long. Inaction was as dangerous as action. It was right. They should be married. He knew it. She knew it. She was just scared. "Have you ever wanted something . . _.so_ much. .. but it scared the hell out of you?" Yes, Abby. Yes, I have. You.

Luka put the nickel down on the dresser, got back into bed and curled his body around hers. She stirred in her sleep to press into him, rest her hand on his arm, toss her leg over his. No fear, he thought, just action, and then he slept.

He had kept his eye out for her all day at work. Too many people. Why was it when you wanted to be alone with someone, there were always hundreds of people around? Finally, he seized his moment, he mumbled an apology as he grabbed her arm and dragged her with him into the suture room.

"Dr. Kovac?"

"Hope .. . . . ."

"Dr. Kovac, I just want to say that I _completely_ respect that you and Abby want to plan your wedding yourselves.. . . .don't worry about me . ."

"Hope.. . . . ."

"I would NEVER interfere where I'm not wanted….so just .. ."

"Hope.. . . . . "

"Rest assured that you won't hear any .. . " Luka's hand clamped down over her mouth , but still her lips didn't cease their protest.

"Hope. Listen .. I need your help. . … I want you to help me. . .surprise Abby."

Finally, the lips were still, and the eyes were wide. Luka slowly removed his hand.

"Will you help me plan our wedding. . . .Abby's and my wedding?"

"Oooooo Dr. Kovac." Her hands fluttered, then her whole body seemed to flutter, and before he knew it he was locked in an enthusiastic embrace. She caught herself and looking embarrassed, pulled back. "Sorry, Dr. Kovac. It's just … . a surprise wedding .. … .. I _love_ surprises and I l_ove_ weddings and I . . . I would be honored to help you."

This was either the best idea he'd ever had, or he was completely fucked.

He did his best to smile and nod.

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Abby watched him as they walked. "He's lucky." That's what Luka had said. Lucky because his Alzheimer's patient didn't have to remember – every day- that his son had died. _She_ didn't think about it every day. But he did. Of course he did. She looked at Joe, bright eyed in his father's arms. She'd remember. .. .. if . .. . Abby shuddered. She couldn't even imagine. Didn't want to think what it would be like to lose their son. Of course they almost had. That was bad enough, before they ever even knew him. But now. .. . .he was a part of them. She knew every inch of him. Loved him like she hadn't known she could. Luka was speaking to a gurgling Joe in Croatian. He hadn't forgotten, but he'd moved on. She could feel it. All those years ago, it wasn't just him that remembered every day. It was her too. She knew then that he was walking around with missing pieces. But now, there were long stretches of time when she forgot. Forgot he'd ever had another wife, another family. Maybe that was because he wasn't missing pieces of himself anymore. . .or maybe it was because she wasn't missing pieces anymore. . . . .. .

"Luka?"

"Hmmm?"

"Let's go home."

He nodded and reached for her hand.

Luka spoke quietly, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Before."

She nodded, and squeezed his hand. He brought her hand to his lips, then smiled. It was so easy . .so simple . . . finding refuge in Abby. For years he'd carried his pain on his own, hugged it to himself. Sometime, somehow, he'd found that he didn't have to shove it aside, or hold it in, nor did he really have to talk about it. It was enough to be able to say what he wanted and feel her with him. His pain. . .her pain. He didn't need to talk about it. He just needed to know that she knew. That she understood. That she knew him. It was no small thing to be known, not to him, not by her.

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The happiest day of her life. He was kissing her neck, and she laughed. Not because it tickled, although it did. But because it was absurd that her wedding day was _in fact _the happiest day of her life. How cliché was that? But not just that, it was absurd how much she loved her husband. _Her husband._ It was if every sappy love song, every romantic poem. . . . .every love story anyone had ever written . .. . . . it was true. She got it. What they were talking about. She'd always thought it was some fantasy. Something made up by people deluded . . .wanting to believe in something that didn't exist. She didn't know it could be real. That you could love, actually, really love someone enough to carry them in your heart, to feel it was meant to be. . .. that, in fact, another person could really be the sunshine of your life.. . . .It was deliciously ridiculous. She loved him . .. . like that .. .and even more ridiculous that was how he loved her. Absurd, unbelievable .. . . corny. . . . .

The love of her life. . . .her husband .. . . .

Love had always been inconstant. As a little girl, laughter turned to tears in a moment. An adventure became a nightmare. A closet, a place you kept not just your things, but yourself. She'd had another wedding day. But even then she hadn't it imagined it the happiest day she would ever have. Or maybe she did. Maybe that was why she'd done it. Maybe she had believed that was as good as it could get. She had loved Richard, in a way. . . . . . or she believed she did. In the end though, he'd confirmed the inconstancy of love, and she had to admit she'd confirmed it as well. Was it possible that that's what it had been about? She'd chosen someone to fulfill her expectations? Or lack thereof.

By the time she'd met Luka, she didn't expect much, didn't want to hope for much. She had been drawn to him. Wanted him. But she'd done her best to protect herself. Or had she? Clearly neither of them had been ready and especially not ready for everything that happened. . the mugging, her mother, the mess that was their first attempt at something. Maybe that was about fulfilling her expectations too . . .she'd expected him to go. . .and he did. She'd even kept Carter around as what? Insurance? Protection? She wasn't proud of herself. It wasn't that she hadn't had feelings for Carter. She had. Hadn't she? Luka's body was pressing into hers in a way that made it difficult to remember feeling anything for anyone else ever before.

When Carter had kept the ring in his pocket, it wasn't as if a knife went into her heart. It was more like cold water splashed on her face. There was no such thing as a "safe" relationship. There were no guarantees. Life was complicated. Love was inconstant. Things she knew. It wasn't really such a surprise. Or was it? She had thought . . .. .. What had she thought? That he would be the one to stay? That he wasn't as dangerous as Luka. Of course the irony was that Luka was the constant. The friend that didn't turn his back. The lover that didn't seem to mind her shortcomings. The husband that promised to love her forever .. . . . . . . .The man that was kissing her now, full on the lips. Who tasted of champagne and of himself. _The love of her life._ She smiled through the kiss, and he pulled back to look at her.

"What?"

"I'm just . . . . . . happy."

He said nothing but looked at her for a long moment before his hands reached up to her hair. He gently disentangled the pearls and then removed the hairpins one by one till her hair tumbled around her face, and he laced his fingers through it and ran them through, then stopped and tightened fistfuls of her hair gently pulling her toward him again, murmuring her name.

_His wife_. She was his wife. He had, more than once that day thought he was going to lose her again. Or if not lose her entirely, screw up what they had. But she hadn't run away, although it was her first instinct. Not that he could really blame her when he thought about it. It had been a crazy thing to do. On the other hand, it had worked. He knew her well enough to know not to give up. That had been his fatal mistake before. She'd run, and he'd given up. Well, maybe they had both changed, or just grown up a little. Or maybe now, they both realized what they had was worth fighting for. Still, she'd given him a scare disappearing during the reception. For a few moments, he'd actually been afraid she'd left, gone home, that she would tell him she regretted the wedding. .. . . ….and then he'd seen her. . . in the kitchen with Hope. She had looked at him and smiled, and that was all he needed. It was all he'd ever need. Damn she tasted good. Well maybe that wasn't all he needed. Where the hell was the zipper on this thing. . . … It was her turn to break the kiss.

"Luka. . ." He knew that tone in her voice, something important.

"What is it?"

She looked into his eyes. "I remember something . … more to the poem.. . . . . I think. .. I think. .. there's a part that goes. . . . _… I fear not my fate. . . . for you_.. . .. ." She felt her eyes fill again. Damn. She swallowed. Say it. "_For … you are my fate."_

"Abby." He took her face in his hands, and he claimed her all over again. His bride. His wife.

They undressed each other carefully, gently, bodies now pressed on the bed, no space, no distance, no fear, only each other. Sometimes fate was kind.


	22. Here and Gone

A/N: Well, it's been a while. Hopefully absence makes the heart grow fonder – for fanfictions too. This one is short. It's mostly a bridge. Encouragement to pursue this storyline would be much appreciated or of course constructive comments/critique, etc.

"Here and Gone"

Luka lay with his hand over his eyes. Abby propped herself up on her side next to him letting her hand run lazily up and down his chest, a secret smile playing on her lips.

"You okay?"

He lifted his hand to look at her, brushed a bit of hair from her face. "Tell me you've never done that with anyone else."

She giggled. "New issue of Cosmo. . .since it is our wedding night . .and everything. . . ."

"We'll have to get married more often." He let the back of his hand slide down her arm.

"I think it's called an anniversary."

"We have to wait a year?'

She laughed. . "Well, at least you won't forget it then. You'll have to give me a card. . "

"Just a card? No flowers, dinner. .. .

"You're right, throw in some jewelry while you're at it. Clearly I understand your motivation in life. .. "

It was Luka's turn to laugh. "You're my motivation in life."

"Me?" She raised her eyebrows in mock innocence.

Luka rolled over taking her with him and pinned her to the bed beneath him.

"You."

Five days. Five, perfect, lazy, loving days. Being with Luka and Joe and Luka and, oh yeah, Luka. Abby laughed at herself. Why had she been afraid to do this? It felt like the most natural, easy thing she had ever done in her life. They planned their honeymoon, Luka cooked, they took Joe to the park and made love while he slept. Thank heaven for naps. The only thing between her and their honeymoon was one shift, one lousy shift. That was doable. Then it was just them and the beach.

She watched Luka's face as he spoke on the phone in Croatian and she felt the knot grow in her stomach. It was clear something wasn't right, but she didn't know what. He talked for a long time. Abby got Joe ready for bed, read him a story, kissed him and placed him in his crib. By the time she got downstairs, Luka was on the computer looking up flights.

"What?" she said, looking at him.

He turned away from the screen to look at her pensively. "Something is wrong with my father, the doctors don't seem to know what it is. My brother wants me to come sort things out."

"Now?"

"He's pretty sick, Abby. I . . .I have to go.. .I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"No, of course you have to go." She walked over to him. The knot twisted as she reached out to stroke his hair. "Why don't we all go?"

"This isn't how I want you to meet everyone. Besides Joe doesn't have a passport."

Abby nodded. "Well, how long do you think? "

"A week, maybe two at the most and then . . we honeymoon."

Abby smiled as his arms came around her waist, but the knot was still there.

He had to do this. From the phone call forward he had this feeling. There had to be payment for such happiness. He had stayed away too long, been too immersed in either his own pain or his own joy to see his father, his brother, his family. It was inevitable there would be a price to pay to have so much in your life. He had to go and help, and he had to do it alone. Leaving Abby and Joe on the curb was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Driving away he'd felt this overwhelming sense of dread at parting. A feeling of doom that he did not understand and passed off as a reminder of his history. He couldn't give into that fear. He took a deep breath and steeled himself to be away from her. She'd be fine. She was strong. And, she had Joe. He wished he could say the same for himself. He couldn't imagine being without them both. He felt so lonely already, and it had only been five minutes.

The first two weeks inched by. She had never felt so alone in her life. Maybe because she had never felt so connected in her life. She worked. She went home and fed Joe, bathed Joe, read to Joe and put him to bed. And then. . . . . . TV? Medical journals? A movie? Talking to Maggie on the phone? She hadn't realized what it meant to come home to someone every night. To her best friend. She missed him, and she knew he missed her. But, he wasn't alone. She could hear that in his voice. He was with family.

He was home.


	23. The Magician

A/N: First, a tremendous thank you to the really touching reviews for the last chapter and the encouragement to go on. As for my plans for this story I really have liked weaving in and out of the on-screen story. My plan is to continue to do so which doesn't mean that I won't change details if I feel they don't mesh with the characters. Rest assured, I do have a plan for my own writing so that regardless of the show, I know where I want to take the characters. I only hope Zabel has a similar plan ; ) "The Magician" 

"How's your Dad?"

"How are you?"

"What's the weather like?"

"When are you coming home?"

After two months, she stopped asking the last question. She couldn't stand the silence that followed. The update on his father's condition. The treatment. The complications. She understood. And she didn't. She knew she was supposed to. She felt like a horrible wife. No, that wasn't true. She didn't feel like a wife at all. After four months, she stopped feeling. Well, that wasn't quite true, but almost.

Her life had been boiled down to the fundamentals. She got up. She got herself ready. She got Joe ready. She fed Joe. She drank coffee. She said good-bye to her son. She worked. She came home. She put Joe to bed. She read a book or watched television. She climbed into bed and tossed and turned. On her days off, she shopped for groceries and diapers. She had the oil changed in the car. She picked up the dry cleaning. She did the laundry. She paid the bills. She took out the garbage. She returned phone calls. She booked baby sitters. She shoveled the miscellaneous crap of life into a different corner or pile or a box to get to later.

She had Joe. She had work she loved. She had friends. And she had never felt more alone in her life.

It was as if a void had opened when Luka left, and it kept getting bigger and bigger every day. Or maybe it wasn't, maybe she was just walking closer to the edge of it. Hard to say. She could feel herself slipping, like a mountain climber who takes on something way out of their league. This was what she had been afraid of, staring her in the face. No matter what she tried to tell herself, Luka would come home. They had a life. They were a family. The doubt, the fear started to eat at her insides. She began to wonder if the void wasn't outside of her, but maybe inside. That she wouldn't fall in so much as be consumed.

He sent the photo book at the start of the third month so Joe wouldn't forget him. Sometimes she wished she could. For a day or for a night. She opened the closet every day to get out clothes, and saw his lined up. His shampoo stood in the shower next to hers. She opened it one morning on a whim and began to cry. After that she put it in the cabinet. Out of sight. Their bed was huge and empty. The house, even when Neela had been there was quiet. The joy was gone.

She was a grown woman. She'd lived alone. What was her fucking problem? He was gone. She couldn't quite get her mind around it, but he was. The time difference made conversations difficult. It was the middle of the night for him when she got home. They could snatch a few minutes in the morning before work, but not many. She might grab a minute here or there at work. But she found herself trying less and less often. That left her days off. In between errands. In between Joe. In between his father. He was often at the hospital or cooking dinner, tossing Croatian answers over his shoulder here and there. And what was there to say.

"I'm fine."

"Joe's fine."

"Work's good"

"Morretti's an ass. Everyone misses you."

"I miss you."

"I love you."

"Come home, please come home."

She never said the last thing. She was lying, but what could she say? There's this dark hole in the house or in my heart. I can't tell where it is, and I can't make it go away. It's scaring the shit out of me. _Come home, please come home._

She would have asked her mother how she did it as a single mother. Except she knew, she didn't really do it. Oh, for brief snatches of time. But then, she was gone, and it had been up to Abby. To beg, borrow or steal food. To put her little brother to bed. To hold it together. Her mother had stayed, even if she came and went, but her father had left. Her father had left, and he hadn't come back. How many months did Maggie promise he would? The first one for sure. The second, third, fourth? Not much after that. And he hadn't. Not till last year. Whatever the fuck that was supposed to be or mean or accomplish. Gone. Now you see him, now you don't. Nothing up my sleeve. Presto.

She watched Joe slide into the tunnel of the MRI. Now you see him. Now you don't. Dear God. It was a nightmare. And she was alone.

"I'm afraid I'd mess it up, Luka."

"We won't."

_Except there is no we. There is just me. And my little boy. And I'm scared. I am so scared._

"You're not alone". Pratt's hand was on her shoulder.

_He doesn't understand. I am alone. I've always been alone. I thought I wasn't anymore. I believed I wasn't alone. I let myself not be alone. But I am. I am alone. _

_Call him. Call him one more time. He'll be there. He has to be there. But, he's not. And we almost die in the attempt._

Put Joe's pajama's on. Brush his teeth. Read him a book. Put him to bed. And now? Now what?

The phone rings. He is there. He's somewhere. Except he's not. Cold caller. That's an apt term. Cold.

Then she saw it. She grabbed it, opened it and smelled it. Suddenly, she was so tired of trying. Of trying to get it all right and never being able to. Of messing up with Joe, with patients, with Luka. She just wanted to numb it all away, to ride off into the smooth giddiness of intoxication. To forget. For tonight. He was right. She did miss it. She hadn't, not then. Not for a long time. But, in this moment she missed it. She missed it more than him. And she could have it. Him she could not have. It was here. It was real. It was familiar.

She picked up the bottle and poured.

Now you see it. Now you don't.


	24. Blood Ties

Blood Ties

"Luka!"

Luka heard his brother, Niko, before he saw him. It had been more than six years. Niko had aged, changed, but then again so had he.

"It's been a long time." There was an edge to Niko's voice, but he caught himself. "Good flight?"

"Yeah . . .. Yeah fine. How's Tata?"

"Not good."

And he had not been good. Multiple Myeloma.

He looked so small and fragile lying in the hospital bed. Not the big, strapping man Luka had remembered. Had left.

"Tata"

He embraced his father and felt a weak hand on his back.

"Thank you for coming, Luka. It means. . . It means so much to have you here."

After they left the hospital, Niko drove Luka to their father's apartment. They sat and drank and talked.

"How long has he been sick?" Luka asked.

"He never complained to you did he?"

"No."

Niko shook his head, lit up a cigarette.

"You could have told me. And you shouldn't do that. It will kill you."

"Yeah, a lot of things will kill you. Do I really need to tell you that your father is old, and you should come and see him once in a while."

"It's not that simple."

"No?"

"No. I'm here now. "

"You are. I thought you might bring your new wife and son."

"We thought it would be better if I came alone. Help Tata get settled."

"And leave."

"Niko. . . . .don't start."

"He's your father."

"I know that."

"Then act like it. I'm tired. I'm going home. You get some sleep. I'll pick you up in the morning, and we'll go to the hospital." He opened the door and turned back. His voice softened. "Luka, it's good you're here. It's really good you're here."

Luka sat for a moment lost in thought. Then he looked at his watch and picked up the phone and called Abby. The sound of her voice made him smile.

He met with his father's doctors. They came up with a treatment plan. He would need surgery to deal with some of the encroachments in his bones. He would need chemo. A lot of chemo. He wasn't stable enough for bone marrow transplants. Not now. Maybe not ever. He was in a lot of pain. They would have to manage that.

He was amazed how easy it was to slip back into being, well into being Croatian. The language, the customs, the food, the music, the . .. the atmosphere. He had forgotten how much adjustment being in America had taken. It was comfortable, even good to be back.

At first, he planned to see his father through the surgery, and get him started on the chemo, and go home. As he watched his father's suffering - his fear, the moments of confusion, of incontinence, of pain - he found he couldn't bring himself to leave. Everything that Niko had said on that first night had hit home. He had stayed away so long. His father needed him. How could he live with himself if he didn't see this through? He couldn't run away, not from family. Not again. It wasn't just his father. He ran interference with the doctors, the hospitals. No one else could explain things, manage things, and get his father the care he was able to. He could push the doctors. He could convince them to titrate the meds differently, to let him take his father home a day early. He was needed here. The days were full and exhausting. Watching someone he loved in such pain, going through so much, it was like running a marathon every day. He hardly had a chance to miss them till he lay down at night.

It was a sacrifice to be gone this long. To miss Joe's first steps. To miss watching his son grow. To miss being with Abby, hold her, love her. But, it was a sacrifice for family. One he had to make. He was sure Abby understood. But as he lay there in the dark, alone, he worried that his son would forget him. Not know him when he got home. Abby he never doubted. They had the rest of their lives together. This would be small in the grand scheme of things. He would make it up to her. Take her on a honeymoon, wherever she wanted.

He thought of bringing them for a visit, but the cramped quarters, his father's incapacitation, somehow it didn't seem right. He was sure she'd be uncomfortable in the small, crowded apartment. He couldn't leave his father for a hotel. He thought he'd go home for a week when things got stable. They just never seemed to get stable. It was one thing after another.

And then there was Niko. His brother moved into the apartment too. He was unchanged in many ways, a little unruly with an edge, a temper and a sense of humor. They took turns on night duty with their father. They got to know one another again. Things had been strained for a long time. Since the harsh, accusatory words Niko had flung at him when he told him he was moving to America. Coward. Deserter. Luka felt the need to prove him wrong. And he felt the guilt, the weight of the long years away. The scant contact. That he had built his life somewhere else. On his own. There was comfort in rebuilding his relationship with his brother as well as his father. There was familiarity and a sense of rightness in the doing the simple tasks of life. Of talking over old times. Remembering their mother. The life they had when he was young. Together again. It felt right. It felt necessary.

He missed them. He missed them a lot when he let himself, which was mostly when he fell into bed at night. Even then he didn't allow himself to wallow in his thoughts. Pushed away the idea of her skin, the smell of her, her smile, her laugh. Willed himself to plan out the next day, the next step that would get his father to the point where he could go home again.

His life was so completely different, so utterly changed from what he had left, there wasn't the sense of something missing so much as a new way to exist for a time. They were safe at home, living much the life they had shared. He told himself the only thing he could, it was his loss, not hers.

There was more surgery, more bone destruction and his father lost the capacity to walk. It was a blow. For all of them. There was nothing to be done but build ramps, try to make the best of it. He left the hospital feeling defeated.

He got home exhausted. The light on the phone flashed. Messages. Abby. It was Abby. Joe was hurt. Unconscious. Needed tests. She was frantic. More messages. Where was he? More messages. Joe is fine. We're going home. Call us. So he did. He called and he called and he called.


	25. The Inferno

A/N: This has been a difficult decision for me. I told myself that if they had Abby sleep with Moretti, I wouldn't write it. Despite the fact that it was wonderful episodic television, and Maura Tierney was incredible with Blackout, I hated it. I was shocked how explicit they chose to make what happened. However, it was so explicit, it no longer felt like an option to not write it in. It would have been the elephant in the room of the story, I felt, to try to leave that part out or change it. So, I decided to try and write it. One of the things I hate most about Zabel's choice in this storyline is that with the writer's strike the whole resolution is called into question. If that's the case, then I'd like to resolve it here.

I know that one does not usually change person/tense in a story, but as this is unpaid work – I am taking liberties. This felt like the right way to write relapsed Abby.

The Inferno

Ringing. Crying. Ringing. Crying. You struggle to consciousness. You don't want to be awake, but then you are. Your head is pounding, and your mouth is dry. You grab the phone. It's him. It's your husband. You see the empty bottle. The shame rises up in you like a wave. You lie. You tell him he didn't wake you up. You hurry to your crying baby. You don't know how long he's been crying. You lie to your husband about that too. You beg him to come home. You don't tell him why. You want him to choose you. He told you he did. That he would. He promised, but he doesn't. He tells you not to make it harder. So you don't. You are supposed to be a good wife. You are supposed to understand how hard it is for him to take care of his father. You are supposed to support him. You tell him you miss him. You don't tell him you just drank a bottle of wine. You don't tell him the demon is back and how afraid you are. You want to be the wife he wants you to be. You want him to want to come home.

You go to work even though you feel sick. Your head is pounding so you take some aspirin; the light hurts your eyes and the sounds your ears. You talk to your sponsor. That's what you are supposed to do, but you can't say the right words. You can't say them because you want to drink. You want to be able to drink. You want the sweet oblivion it brings. You want to forget all the things you aren't. You want her to fix it for you. You want her to tell you it's okay. But she can't, and she doesn't. You are on your own. You are on your way home. You think of your son. You want to do the right thing. You love your son. You go to a meeting. But it doesn't seem real. You can't connect to anything anyone is saying. You want a drink. You want it all to go away. You don't want to feel what you feel anymore. Your husband is gone, and he won't choose you. And you remember all the other times in your life you weren't chosen. A part of you knows the truth, that you don't really deserve to be chosen. You are afraid your husband will find out that truth too, or maybe that he already suspects. You think about that, and you think about drinking, and how none of it hurts as much when you drink.

You go home and kiss your son and go to bed. But you can't sleep. You've woken the beast, and it won't let you sleep. You creep downstairs. As if anyone can hear you. You find the bottle of bourbon that Ames didn't finish before he took Luka. And you finish it. It's good, as good as sex when you haven't had any in a long time. Which you haven't.

You wake up the next morning, and you tell yourself you can stop. You get your son ready and feed him, and you tell yourself you will stop. But you don't. You pick up a six-pack of beer on the way home. Beer isn't bad. Everyone has a beer. It's just till Luka gets home. One week, it's just one week, and this will help. One beer a night, and only after Joe is in bed. But that first night you drink all six. It feels so good. It's nice and cold, and you don't hurt so much. You stick to beer or wine for a week, and only when the baby is asleep. It feels good not to dream or think or be so alone. But the week is gone, and Luka's stopped talking about coming home again. The mornings are hard. It's hard to face a day waiting for the night. Nothing wrong with a screwdriver in the morning. Just one. It takes the edge off. After all, everyone forgets the name of a test here or there. That doesn't hurt anyone. You'll just be extra careful. You won't forget anything that matters.

You lie to yourself.

It's awful long to go from morning to night. You are too anxious to get your son to sleep. It makes you short with him. You don't want to be short. You want to be a good mother. A beer, one beer when you come home, but the hard stuff only when he's asleep. He won't know then. That's okay. Everyone unwinds with a beer or glass of wine or two when they get home.

You lie to your sponsor.

It's an awful long time to go all day at work. You miss it. You want it. You need it. Vodka is clear, water bottles are common. No one will know. Just a little in that morning coffee or a sip with lunch. Just to take the edge off, so you can concentrate. You have to be able to concentrate to work. Just a little here and there. That won't hurt. It's not like you are drunk.

You lie to your co-workers, your friends.

See. Nothing terrible has happened. The sky hasn't fallen. No one has died. No problem. It's not like anything so terrible happened the last time either. What's the big deal?

You lie to anyone who will listen.

You are tired of drinking alone. Of being alone. There is a party. You are invited to celebrate with your friends. Why shouldn't you? Why should you be in your apartment every night all-alone? Luka isn't alone. You've been alone for months. Maybe you'll be alone forever. Maybe you don't have to be alone tonight. You put your son to bed. You drink your vodka, and you find a babysitter. It's a party. You fill your water bottle and hail a cab. You are a responsible drinker. You sit in the backseat and drink, and you see the driver sneak glances in the rear-view mirror at you. Eyeing you, judging you for drinking your water. What does he know about it? What does he know about anything? You are going to a party so you stop and pick up party things. You need a party. You are the life of the party. The party leaves. But you don't. You drink. But tonight you don't drink alone.

You wake up, and you don't know where you are. You see a man's watch and a drink. Then you see Moretti. What the hell? You are naked. You have no idea how you got there. You were talking to him at the bar. He asked you about Luka. Luka. You get dressed and get the hell of out there. What happened? What the hell did you do? You wouldn't have. You couldn't have. You would have stopped it. You love your husband. You love. . . . .You didn't. You are frantic now as you get to your home. You were naked. What did you do? You need to see your husband. You love your husband. If you can just get to your husband. You wouldn't have. You couldn't have. You don't even like him. You grab your son. You try to drive, but you can't. You have to get to Croatia. That's where he is. You just have to be where he is. It will be okay. Everything will be okay when you are with him. You'll stop drinking. It will all be okay if you can just get to him. But you can't. You sit down defeated. You wouldn't have. You couldn't have. You love your husband.

But you did.

It comes back slowly and in pieces. Anger, pain, doubt, fear, loneliness, all floating in an alcohol induced fog. Have a drink. Have another drink. It tastes good. It feels good. You want to feel good. You need to feel good. It's been so long since you've felt really good. The drinking isn't enough. The demon wants more. Do it. It will make the hurt stop. Do it. The demon is set on destruction. Your destruction. Luka's destruction. Love, fidelity, trust, hope, faith. The demon can't co-exist with those things. They must be destroyed. You destroyed them. You understand the demon isn't within you anymore. It has become you. Or you have become it.

The pain of the knowledge is almost too much to bear, and if it weren't for the child in your arms you think you would break into a thousand pieces. Then the tears come, the wracking sobs for all that you've lost. For what you've become.

You wouldn't have. You couldn't have.

But you did.


	26. Clueless in Croatia

A/N: First a note of thanks to my beta reader, Claudia, who held my hand through this chapter. Second, a special note of thanks to those who have taken the time to review the last couple of chapters, I know they aren't fun which makes the encouragement and positive comments all the more important to keep me moving forward. I'm hoping to limit the number of sad chapters before the hard work of fixing it! Hope everyone enjoys 300 tomorrow.

ETA: This is the problem of writing back and forth with the show. I found as I continued to write the story and delve more into what happened with Abby and Moretti that my original words no longer resonated with me in terms of how she ended up the way she did. I have decided to make some minor adjustments so that it feels more real to me. At the time I wrote this, I was struggling to put it in perspective, but I think I missed the mark originally and this feels more "right" to me now.

Clueless In Croatia

Why wasn't she picking up? The last message said they were on their way home. Damn it. Stupid to have left the cell phone at home when he went to the hospital. He had to know.

"Frank?"

"Luka? Well if it isn't the long lost Croat."

"Yeah. Frank, listen I haven't been able to reach Abby. She left a message about Joe?"

"Yeah, seemed fine when they sent him home."

"Is anyone there who saw him?"

"Morris is still around. I'll put him on."

"Hey, Luka! How's it going buddy?"

"Hey Morris. I'm calling about Joe. I haven't been able to reach Abby."

"He's fine. MRI was clear. He went home stable. And he's got Abby with him so I'm sure he's doing great."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot." Luka breathed a sigh of relief.

Despite the reassuring news, he kept calling home. When he finally reached Abby, she was distracted, didn't seem to understand about his father, wanted him to come home, right then and there. Joe was fine. Didn't she understand they'd just got the news his father would never walk again? It wasn't like he could just leave now. He had to get his father settled first. He and Niko were working together for the first time in years. He felt like he'd got his family back. He couldn't just walk out the door. Not with it unfinished. Not like before.

"Luka!" Niko came in loaded down with groceries. "How's it coming?" He looked around at the construction.

"Slow. I don't know if this guy knows what he's doing."

"I don't know if you know what you're doing." Niko winked and slapped him on the back. "Come on I'll check it out. You deal with the medicine. I'll deal with the construction. "

Luka smiled. It was good to have a big brother again. "Okay. You get the bathroom sorted out by tonight, and I'll buy you a beer."

"By tonight? Luka this isn't like an ER doctor job. You don't sort out a bathroom in one day. Ten days maybe."

"Ten days?"

"If it goes well. What's the sour look?"

"I told Abby a week."

"Oh, little woman wants you home huh?"

Luka smiled. "I hope so."

"What's she like? You just get a stupid grin on your face you never really tell us."

Luka smiled, looked away. "Smart, funny, beautiful . .independent .. . hot tempered . ... sexy…. she's.. .. Everything. She's. . . . ." He looked Niko in the eyes. "She's why I went to America. Why I had to go. Why I stayed."

Niko nodded, taking it in. The look on his face, the sound of his voice when he spoke of her. Their fight as burned in his memory as his brother's. "Must be tough to be away. But I can see what it means to Tata to have you here." Niko turned to check out the work in the bathroom then turned back and smiled. " I know what it means to me. I'll buy the beer tonight."

The retrofitting took even longer than they thought. Weeks went by, but finally it was done. They moved their father in. Luka arranged interviews to find 24 hour care for when he left. It was all coming together.

"Luka . . . ." his father's call woke him. He was groggy, looked at his watch. Well, he'd at least got a four-hour stretch in.

"Yes, Tata . . .I'm here . .. "

"_Come on. I'll give you a ride."_

"_I can take a cab."_

"_A beautiful woman like you. . . . out alone on a dark night. . . .anything might happen. Come on, Abby."_

_Abby shrugged. Why not? No one else cared where she was tonight. The game was afoot._

"I wish you didn't have to help me with that. I feel like a god damn baby."

"Don't worry. Let's get you washed up, and then I'll make some breakfast. Niko will be over later."

"_Thissss isn't where I live."_

"_No, it's where I live. Come up for a minute?"_

"_What? To see your etchings?" So predictable. Men._

_He laughed. "Something like that."_

"_Have you got a drink?"_

"_Do you think you need another drink?"_

_Abby laughed. " Do I need another drink? Do I need another drink?" She pretended to consider the question. "The night is young. Why wouldn't I?" Another drink was all she wanted._

Luka went into the kitchen and started the coffee. He opened the refrigerator for eggs. He looked up and saw the picture of Abby and Joe he had taped there months ago. He put up his hand and touched them.

_Moretti dug out a flashlight and some candles._

"_Nice place. I think. Too dark to see those etchings."_

_He handed her a glass with the clear fluid she loved, craved. "But not too dark for everything. Vodka Collins okay?"_

"_How'd you know?" She winked at him. The drink was good. He wanted her. She wanted that drink. She took a long slip and licked her lips. She was so numb. She couldn't feel them. That was the goal though wasn't it? Not to feel. _

The eggs cracked and sizzled in the pans.

_He watched her drink, considered her. "You were right about the flirting. I've wanted you a long time."_

_"You have?" She laughed then under her breath, "Well that makes one of you."_

"_What?"_

"_Never mind. I'm hard to stay away from. Irresssistible." Except to him. But there was one man in her power. Something she could control._

_She downed the drink. What they hell? Might as well get it over with. Just one more way to dull the pain. He was reaching for her now. It was dark, it was so dark. Her body knew what to do. How to win. The rest of her checked out. It was no use. No use to her now._

Luka reached up for a coffee mug. It slipped from his hand and splintered into pieces on the floor. Bending down to pick it up, he cut his hand and winced.

_Abby sat up in the bed. Where was she? What had happened? What had she done?_

He was bringing his father his morning tray. Coffee, the old man wouldn't give it up, eggs, bread when he shuddered, a feeling of dread flooding him. His stomach clenched, a shot of pain in his chest, his hands went weak and the tray clattered to the floor.

"Shit."

"Luka? Are you okay?'

Confused, Luka bent down to pick up the things. "Yeah, Tata, I'm fine just dropped the tray." He tried to shake it off. The fear. The dread. Must not be getting enough sleep. A night nurse for his father would help.

Luka re-made the breakfast and carried it in.

His father studied him over the tray. "Sit down Luka"

Luka pulled up a chair and smiled at his father.

"It's time you went home."

"Tata?"

"You've been here with me a long time. It's made me very happy. But you have your own son, your wife to look after. Go home."

"I just want to be sure you're okay."

"I'm never going to be okay, Luka." Luka opened his mouth to speak, but his father raised his hand. "It's okay. I'm old. Dying is part of living. These last few months with you have meant everything to me. To see you happy again. To know you have a family to be with, someone to share your life. I worried a long time about you. I don't have to worry anymore. But it's time you go."

Luka nodded.

"Luka, I have one more thing I want to ask you. Take Niko with you when you go."

"Tata?"

"You both have been working so hard taking care of me, and with you gone, it will be just him. Give him this break. Let him meet your wife and boy. He can tell me stories. Niko's a good storyteller. Book one of those nurses you've been talking to, and Dusan can check on me. You boys should go."

A nurse was hired. Plans were made. Flight schedules consulted. Tickets booked. It was another two days before Luka called his wife.

"Abby?"

"Luka. . . . .Hi . . . .how are you?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. . . I'm just. . I'm really tired. . . Not feeling great today."

"I'm coming home."

"You are?"

"Yup, booked flights. I'll be home in a couple of days."

"Good . . .that's really good. We've missed you a lot."

"Abby? "

"Yeah..."

"I can't wait to see you."

There was a pause. "Me too. Look I've got to go, I hear Joe."

"Oh okay. I'll call you with the flight information."

"Good. Talk to you soon. Bye."

That night Luka could hardly sleep. They were so close now; the closer he was to being with them again, the harder it was to be apart. He finagled an earlier flight. He couldn't wait to see the look on Abby's face. He couldn't wait to hold her again.


	27. I Wish I Had a River

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long. I had some computer issues and the holidays. The good news is I actually have several chapters waiting in the wings so the updates should not take so long. After this, Zabel and I part company. I don't want to wait for the writer's strike to settle, and my agent informs me that it won't help me to strike as even if I double my income, twice times nothing is still nothing. . .so why bother? ; )

However, seeing as how I work for reviews. . .if you wanted to increase my income . . I wouldn't be opposed.. . . . .

Happy New Year to all.

I Wish I Had a River

You manage to get home. You put your son in his bed, and you sit and watch him a long time. You call in sick to work. You let the sitter in. You tell her Joe had a rough night and you are sick, and go upstairs. You run a hot bath, as hot as you can stand it, and you scrub yourself. You want him off you. You cry some more. You feel dirty even after your bath. You pick up your clothes, boots, everything and throw them in the trash. You are exhausted, and you climb into the bed you shared with your husband. You cry again. Finally, you sleep. When you wake up you are shaky. It's no longer about wanting to drink. You need it. Your body needs it. Your mind needs it. You need to be numb.

Your husband calls to tell you he's coming home. Maybe he will this time, or maybe you will get another call that something else has happened. Another delay. You don't know which you hope for. You will stop drinking when your husband is home. You will. You have to. You wonder how you will face him. You will just have to pretend it never happened. It didn't mean anything anyway. You don't remember.. .the culmination. .maybe you didn't . .maybe he didn't. Maybe it doesn't count. You will pretend it never happened, and when your husband is home you will stop drinking and everything will be okay. But you know it won't be.

After three days, you go back to work. You decide you have to face him. Your husband is coming home the next day. You have to deal with it. Whether you want to or not. And you don't. You lurk in the locker room while he talks to his son. You want to get it over with. You want to know where you stand, and you want him to know that for you it never happened. You are not his "honey", and you never will be. He starts to bring it up, and you change the subject. The plan is, it never happened. You will both pretend it never happened. You will. You have to. You struggle through the day. You take sips of liquid courage when you can. Your skills slip. You are dulled. Until you see your husband. For a moment you can't believe it's him. But it is and there's nothing in the world but him. You run into his arms, and he grabs you and lifts you up, and you are wrapped in his arms again. For one moment you believe, you really believe, it will all be okay. He has his arm around you. He is smiling at you, and it's like the sun. He kisses you. You are interrupted. The next thing you know, he is smiling and shaking Moretti's hand, making polite small talk, and you wish a cavern would open up for you to crawl into. Or maybe it already has. You keep your eyes on your husband. Finally, it's is over, and he starts to walk away to bring gifts to his friends. You touch his arm. You kiss him again. You want to make it right. You do. But you can't. You make it to the break room.

It hits you in an overwhelming rush. What you had not let yourself consider. You have slept with your own boss _and_ with your husband's boss. The man he has to request time off from, schedules, be evaluated by, everything. You will all have to work together. Your husband has no clue. You have cuckold your husband. The reality of it hits you. You vomit.

You'll have to tell him. Because that can't happen ever again. He can't stand there not knowing. You can't do that to him. Whatever else happens. That can't happen. Maybe you will have to leave your job. Maybe Luka will. Maybe he will leave you and take your son. Maybe he will kill Moretti. Because of you. Maybe you will spend the rest of your life without him. Without your son. Maybe you can't tell him. Maybe there is no way out. Moretti wants to talk, and you don't. You have nothing to say to him. You can't tell him what your husband doesn't even know. That you are a drunk. That you do terrible things when you drink. That he is one of those terrible things. In the end, as he leaves you toss something out to him. A vague glimmer of the truth. You hope everything will work out. That's all you can say. It's all you want. It to work out. With your husband. With your job. With your life. But your patient's father tells you the truth. There are things you can't fix. You can't un-ring a bell. You don't know what you are going to do, but somehow you hope if you go home, and he puts his arms around you, it can still be okay. Somehow. But he doesn't, and it's not. His brother. You are dying inside, and no one sees it.

It doesn't even matter that Moretti is gone. Because you know. You know what you did, and you can't live with it. You can't tell him, and you can't not tell him. You have a house guest and a husband who came home thinking nothing had changed between you, and you are in limbo, or maybe you've made it to hell. It's hard to tell.

You hide as best you can, for as long as you can. You beg off, and you stay up and you avoid your husband's touch. You avoid your husband in general, and his brother, and even your son. You are caught in a nightmare, and there's no way out. No way but the clear liquid you pour into your soda cans and into your coffee and, whenever you can, into large cups full of ice. You come home drunk, and find your husband sitting alone in the dark. Perfect. When you aren't drunk you blame yourself, but when you are drunk you can blame him. So you do. But his father is dead. You've failed him in every way possible. So you make plans to go to Croatia. It has to get better. Can it get worse? You fill shampoo bottles with Vodka to get you through because you can't stop, and you know it. And sometimes you don't even care that you can't stop. And sometimes it's all you care about.

It begins to unravel. Neela knows. Even Julia knows. She doesn't know what she knows. Hell she doesn't even know you, but she knows. All your strength. What strength? All your strength is in a bottle. "If you love them .. . ." Neela has the audacity to put an "if" in front of it. What does she know? What does she know about anything? The drink makes you mean. You can say anything. Tell any lie. Use any information. Make any accusation. Anything. Nothing is off the table. Nothing. Except the truth. Still, in the part of you that is left, that is still real, you can't help but remember how many times you said that to Maggie. . . ."If you loved me .. . . . ." The shoe is on the other foot. You're the mother now. The wife. "Do you still love me?" Luka has to ask. He has to ask. Your husband doesn't know. It's the only thing that you know anymore, and he doesn't. Why should he? Why should he know? He tells you that you can't hide forever, and he walks away. It can get worse. And it will. You will lose him. You will lose Joe. You will lose your career. Maybe your life. Maybe someone else's life. It hits you between the eyes. It can get a lot worse. You go home, and finally it's you, and it's him, and it's Joe. That's it. That's your world, and you have one chance. It could be your last one. All your strength isn't in a bottle. It's sitting on the floor playing with your son. That's your strength. So you use it while you can. While it's still there. Because you know how this story ends. You've seen it hundreds of times. Hell, you've done this before. Lost it all. Except you've never had more to lose. And maybe, just maybe you don't have to.

"Luka. .I need help."

And you tell him. Not everything. Just what he has to know. You can't. You can't see what will be in his eyes when he knows. You need him. You need him to do this. And he does. He does.

You pour it out. For yourself. For him. For Joe.

You kiss your son goodbye. And you get into the car.

You press your hand to the window. Hoping. And there is his.

And so you find the strength to start the car and to do the part you have to do alone.


	28. Who Knew

A/N: One short chapter deserves another. They will get longer, I promise.

Who Knew?

He sat staring out the window of the plane. Holding their son. Joe was crying for his mother. So was Luka. How the hell did this happen? When had it all gone so terribly wrong? How could he not have known? Seen it. He thought he understood her, knew her . .. . he wondered if he knew her at all. .. .. . .. . She'd done things. Things she was ashamed of. What kind of things? Eyes pleading for him not to ask. But he knew. The kind of things that make it impossible to be with your husband. She'd been with another man. . . . . . . .Men? His gut churned. He thought for a minute he'd be sick, but he fought it back and bounced his son on his knee. He started singing a lullaby in Croatian. Joe began to settle and rest his head on his father's chest. He felt Niko's eyes on him, and he couldn't return the gaze.

When Niko had returned from his shopping trip, he had asked about Abby. Luka had to say something, but he had no idea what to say. How do you explain something to someone you don't understand yourself?

"Abby's not coming."

"What? What do you mean she's not coming?"

"She. . . . .can't."

"She's staying home with Joe?"

"No. . .Joe's coming with us."

"Luka?"

"I can't. Niko not tonight. She just . . . she can't .. . . Don't ask me, not tonight." Where had he heard that before. _Not tonight_.

Niko watched his brother retreating into himself. He'd seen it before. What had she done to him? What could possibly be more important than being with her husband now? Her behavior had been strange he had to admit. Not what he'd expected given Luka's glowing descriptions of an incredible. . . . extraordinary woman. She'd been quiet, rather dull, tired looking and distracted. She'd hardly paid attention to either Luka or Joe. Hadn't responded to his own overtures of friendship. And now. . .. . .

Joe slept nestled in Luka's arms. His mind churned and spun. She'd been drunk that night she came home. .. . late .. hours after leaving work. He'd realized that of course. Still he hadn't known what it meant. He'd been distracted by the fear she'd been with someone else. Had she? He knew in his heart what she hadn't been able to tell him. That there had been someone else. What did she feel for him? If she was ashamed, did that mean she had feelings for the guy or didn't? If he'd just come home when she'd asked after Joe's accident. If he had just come home, it would all be different. He could feel it. It was his fault. She'd asked, and he thought she was just over reacting to the accident. That Joe was fine. That his father was the one who needed him.

The irony was he had thought he was uniting his families, finally everything in place, but of course he was gaining one while destroying the other. He'd been completely blind. Luka looked down at Joe. Studied him. If she'd been a bad mother, it was nothing you could see. Joe was healthy. A strong, happy boy when he wasn't tired or hungry. What the hell had happened while he was gone? It all seemed so incredibly stupid now. He could have let Niko finish the remodeling, settled Tata. He could have, but he didn't. The truth was that he wanted more time with his brother and his father. He'd thought their love was so strong that time and distance wouldn't change it. It hadn't for him.

He loved her, couldn't imagine being with someone else. Had no interest in it whatsoever. It never occurred to him that she would. Damn fool. Overconfident. Naive. Stupid. Blind. He'd put them in some sort of state of suspended animation in his own mind. Had expected to come home and pick up where they left off. When they didn't, he thought she just needed time. Then he knew. . . when she avoided him, avoided going to bed with him, his touch. .. .he knew there was someone else. He had hoped he was wrong. What doubt he'd had, let himself have, was gone now. He'd been right. And it was killing him. To doubt her. To doubt what she felt for him. To see her like that. Torn apart. Not the woman he'd left. Someone else. Someone who couldn't cope. He'd left a strong confident doctor and mother. What had he done? What had he done? What had she done?

The stewardess came by, smiling, friendly. Would he like something to drink? Would he? _Why do you do that? Drink in front of me._ "No, no thanks."

Did she still love him? She said she did. He was the one she'd come to for help. He thought back to when he'd first seen her at the hospital the day he'd come home. How she'd run to him, thrown herself into his arms, held on so tight. She hadn't been pretending. She'd wanted him home. He believed that. That moment had been what he'd expected. If he was honest with himself, and he guessed it was time to be, it was the last one. That first night hadn't been. They'd kissed, but when he'd tried to touch her, undress her, she'd frozen, pleaded fatigue, house guest, illness, a headache. A headache? And he'd been patient, realizing she'd been more upset by his absence than he'd realized. Angry with him even. Then sitting alone in the dark that night, knowing she'd left work early, knowing she wasn't answering her phone, knowing his father was dead and realizing there was someone else. Maybe he should have let her tell him then. He was afraid she was going to. Afraid what they'd say to each other in anger, in pain. He hadn't wanted to know. Not that night. But tonight, tonight was different. Somehow knowing seemed better than wondering, than the doubts and fears that were eating his soul. Who? When? Where? Why? The answer to each a personal agony. But she wouldn't tell him. Not tonight. So what now? He was left to ponder the possible answers. To wonder. To doubt. All made more horrendous by the understanding that if she'd broken her vows, he'd broken his first. He'd promised they'd do it together, and then he'd left. He was the one that had opened the door to the other man. That she had crossed that line, hadn't loved him enough, didn't love him like he loved her. That was the knife in his heart.

He had sent her off to rehab on auto-pilot, willing his body to do what his heart and soul couldn't do, let her go. Rehab? Had it really been that bad? He guessed it had. How do you not see your wife needs rehab? What sort of lies had he been telling himself and for how long? She'd made no move to kiss him good-bye. He couldn't bring himself to either. It was all so raw. Then he saw her hand pressed to the window. Asking for connection through glass. He'd pressed his own to the image of hers and left it there after hers was gone. He stood with Joe and watched her drive away. Numb. Raw. Cold.

He eased Joe's sleeping body into the seat between him and Niko and made his way past his sleeping son, past his brother, out of the row. Niko was still watching him, and he was still avoiding his eyes. He made it to the lavatory before he heaved. He splashed water on his face. He couldn't look at himself. This time the glass wasn't shattered, but something inside him was. He let himself break, crying for all that they had lost, his life forever changed by his own negligence. . . . . . . . again.


	29. Dreaming with a Broken Heart

A/N: First a note of gratitude to my beta readers. I've very much wanted to make the story that's about to unfold both interesting and dynamic (with some surprises) as well as authentic, and they have been invaluable: Claudia, who always gets the roughest, rough drafts, and who is never afraid to argue points with me : ) which makes the story better, Nicole who provided a great deal of thoughtful insight and to whom I am truly indebted, and to Myrtus who stepped in to give me invaluable feedback as well as much needed reassurance.

I want to sincerely thank those that took the time to review these last chapters, especially those who offered their thoughts on the story. First, I felt as did Zabel, that Luka would indeed pick up his share of the load. I can't imagine writing him otherwise. My feeling is that both he and Abby absolutely had to/have to acknowledge and understand how their choices affected each other and their marriage. I think from this flows the only real chance of healing the rift. They both have to see their part, and they both have work to do. I love to write these characters because they are so complicated, so real (thanks I believe in no small part to the talent of the actors) and are both these mixtures of tremendous strength as well as weakness - and how that fits together in their relationship - I think is fascinating. I was very gratified to see that Zabel wrote that into 300 Patients and feel between that and a healthy fear of Goran ; ) that his intent (writers' strike and actors' contracts allowing) is to "fix" them. Hopefully once and for all!

I also want to say that my personal experience with addiction and recovery is basically non-existent by the grace of God, and that I have done my best to research it well enough to write something that is based in reality and hopefully honors the experience to some degree. I was very gratified to receive the feedback that thus far I'm succeeding in that endeavor. So thank you especially for that.

Dreaming with a Broken Heart

Luka wasn't sure how he made it to Niko and Ana's home. If he had slept, he wasn't aware of it. Luckily Joe had slept the whole flight, interrupted only by the plane change. When they arrived in Croatia, Luka had carried him off the plane, amazingly still asleep, while Niko got the bags. They made it through immigration and Niko's wife, Ana, was waiting for them. She'd been delighted to see Joe, but looked at Luka with the question he knew he would hear a hundred times.

"Where's Abby?"

"Family emergency." Luka said it tersely.

Niko caught Ana's eyes, shook his head when he saw she was about to ask more. He knew his brother wasn't ready to talk.  When Niko opened the door to their home, delicious smells greeted them. Ante 12 and Marika 10 made a beeline for their father. "What did you bring us from America?"

Tatiana came out of the kitchen, an expectant look on her face. "Joe! I've heard all about you from your Tata!" Followed by the inevitable, "Luka, where's your wife?"

Tatiana had her hair pulled up in the way Dani used to when she was cooking a big meal. Other than their hair, the two women didn't share many features, but the joy on her face on seeing Joe, it was like seeing a ghost instead of Danijela's little sister. The two families had been close before the marriage, and the intimacy hadn't faded in the intervening years. If anything their mutual losses had brought them closer together. After all, they'd lost not only the children and Danijela, but Luka as well.

Niko stepped in, answered for a change. "She had a family emergency of her own. We're starved and exhausted. Food ready?"

Tatiana's eyes followed Luka. As he pulled off his gloves, they were drawn to his ring finger. It was still there. That band of gold. Had she really expected anything else? But six months was a long time for a man to stay away from his new wife, and now she wasn't here. All that had to mean something.

"Sit down. I'll bring out the food."

And so Luka ate - or tried to. He kept looking at his watch. Finally, his phone rang. He looked at Tatiana. "Can you watch Joe for a few minutes?"

She nodded and began to point out pictures in one of his story books.

He walked out of the room as he answered. "Abby?"

"Luka. How was your flight? How's Joe?"

"He's fine. Slept through most of it. No problems. You get checked in okay? Are you alright?"

"I've had better days." That was an understatement. The withdrawals were like having her entire nervous system exposed. "They know what they're doing here."

He shook his head, rubbed his eyes.

She heard his heavy sigh. "Luka?"

"How could I have not known?"

"It's part of the disease Luka. I hid it. It wasn't you. It was me."

He was silent. She tried again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be there for you. . .and Joe."

"Funeral's tomorrow. We'll fly home after that. Come and see you."

"No .. .don't do that. . ."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm a mess and your father just died. I can't . . . . .I can't help you through this. . . . .I wish I could, but I can't . . . .and you should be with people who can . . . . . it's not fair to you . . . .to come home and go through it alone."

"But it's fair for you to go it alone?"

"I have to. I have to do this part alone. You can't help me here. And besides, I'm not alone. I'm getting treatment Luka. I'm getting help. So, I can be well." It was all true. But it wasn't all there was. She wasn't ready to see him. Not till she was strong enough to face what she'd done.

"So, Joe and I stay here, and you're there. Wasn't that the problem in the first place?"

"Part of it. But Luka, the big problem is that I started drinking again. I have to fix that before I can fix anything else . . . .. .please .. . . understand." She couldn't do this anymore. All she wanted was a drink.

"Okay. Okay. If this is what you need. We'll stay. I'll call you tomorrow."

"You can't. I'll have to call you when I'm allowed phone time."

"When you're allowed?"

"That's how it works."

"Okay. Call me when you can then. Any time. I'll keep my cell with me." Like I should have done before.

"Give Joe a kiss for me. Tell him I love him."

"I will." Luka felt the tears well up in him again. The pain.

"Luka . . . ."

"Yeah?"

"I love you too."

There was silence. He couldn't make sounds come out. Finally, all he could do was a choked "Me too. They have my number .. .if . .. .if you need anything?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Talk to you soon."

He took a moment to try to compose himself, then he went back into the room. Tatiana sat with Joe on her lap, cooing to him in Croatian. Niko and Ana worked, cleaning in the kitchen and talking in low voices. It wasn't hard to guess about what.

Luka went into the kitchen. "I better get going. Get Joe settled in at Tata's."

"Going? Nonsense!" Ana clucked at him. "You and Joe are staying here, where I can look after you. No sense being alone. Not at a time like this. Ante will give up his room. You are staying."

Niko nodded. "She's right Luka. You should stay here with us. That's what family is for."

Family. Luka nodded. He didn't want to argue, and he didn't want to be alone.

He went back into the living room and sank into the couch. Joe left Tatiana to crawl into his lap and bring his plane. Luka began to make the flying noises. Murmuring to him in Croatian and English about the trip. Then in English, softly in Joe's ear, he whispered. "Mama loves you. She misses you, and we'll see her soon." He could feel Tatiana's eyes on them.

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_The building was in pieces all around them. He had to find them. He ran up the stairs. His father lay helpless, calling to him. Luka went over to him. He had to get him out of the building. His father couldn't walk. Luka bent down and hoisted him onto his back and tried to carry him out. Then he remembered. Abby. Abby was somewhere in the building too. He wandered calling for her, carrying his father. But he couldn't find her. He couldn't find her._ He sat up with a start. Abby. Where was he? Then it came back. It all came back. Joe lay sleeping on the mat beside his bed. _This is how we do it together. You have to help me do it alone._

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It was raining the day of the funeral. Of course. There was a big turnout at the Church. Friends. Family. Ana carried Joe while Luka and Niko took their places on the sides of their Father's casket, helping to carry it into the Church. White gloves. Black box. Flowers. Too many flowers. The smell made him nauseous. Funny, it hadn't bothered him the last time he was surrounded by them. His wedding day. Their wedding day. He took his place in the first pew with his family. Joe on his lap. He was numb. Death seemed very close.

_"The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing that I lack. In green pastures you let me graze; to safe waters you lead me; you restore my strength. You guide me along the right path for the sake of your name. Even when I walk through a dark valley I fear no harm for you are at my side; your rod and staff give me courage. You set a table before me as my enemies watch; You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Only goodness and love will pursue me all the days of my life; I will dwell in the house of the Lord for years to come."_

Luka listened and took a deep breath. Psalm 23. One of his father's favorites. His father who had such a strong faith. So simple. "_I need to believe it this time, and I need you to believe it._" She needed him to believe. He needed to believe. He needed faith. He took a deep breath, and he prayed. For his father. For Abby. For himself.

By the time the service was over, and they drove to the cemetery, the rain had stopped. Luka stood holding Joe at the grave site. Watched his father being lowered into the ground. Next to his mother. The women threw flowers in and cried. He remembered the last time he'd stood in a graveyard, staring at coffins. Three that time. He held Joe more tightly. He began to fuss. And Luka jiggled him, rubbed his back. He glanced at Niko and Ana holding hands. He was envious. All he wanted was Abby's hand. Her small one pressed into his. _I carry your heart. I carry your heart in mine. _He had believed it. He had done it for a long time. It was hard to find her there today. It was hard to find her anywhere. So hard. He needed to feel her. Have her standing next to him. He dropped one hand involuntarily as if reaching for hers. He was surprised to feel pressure in it a minute later. Tatiana. She would understand. Remember what he was remembering. She gave his hand a squeeze. And he gave a gentle squeeze back.


	30. In the Bleak MidWinter

A/N: It seems my introduction of Tatiana was a little confusing for some readers. I'll just say she was meant to be a mystery, and the questions that might have come to mind - were meant to be there (the questions Abby would have had - if she'd made the trip) - and hopefully all will be made clear in future chapters :)

Thanks for the thoughtful reviews and input – and on with the story!

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

"How was the funeral?" Abby's voice was soft, concerned.

"Well attended." Everyone had gone back to work or school. Luka felt restless, and a little sorry for himself.

"Luka?"

"I don't know Abby. It was my father's funeral. Hard. It was hard. Everyone asked about you."

"What did you say?"

Silence.

"Luka?"

"Family emergency."

"Oh."

"I need to tell Niko."

"I know you do." She paused, gathering courage. "You should."

"How are you?"

"Um. . . . "

"Abby?"

"Crap."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I had a group meeting today."

"How was it?"

"Well attended."

"Abby."

"Hard. . . . . . . and necessary. I never should have stopped."

"What?"

"The program. Doing the work. I stopped doing the work."

Silence.

"Luka?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't ever stop again. This is a lifetime thing. You know that?"

"I know that." But did he?

"You okay with that?"

"Yeah . .of course. I . . .. I want you to be well, Abby. You know that."

"I know."

"Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"Does anyone else know you're there?" Did you tell him? Did you call him before you left? Did you call him when you got there to let him know you wouldn't be seeing him?

"No, I haven't called Mom yet."

Luka let out a breath. Relief. No hesitation in her voice. Maybe there was no one to call. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe. "Do you want me to call her?"

"No, I should do it. I'll call her and Eric. But not yet. A few more days. When I don't feel like something the cat dragged in."

"Okay. Well, if you change your mind."

"Thanks Luka, but I have to .. . ."

"Do it yourself. You want to talk to Joe?"

"Maybe just for a minute today. .. . . "

Luka put the phone up to Joe's ear and heard Abby's voice on the other end. Asking him how he was. Telling him how much she missed him. Was Daddy reading him stories? Did he like Croatia? Joe got very quiet with wide eyes. Luka coached him. "Say hi to mama Joe. Say hi."

"Mama"

Luka could hear Abby start to cry. He took the phone from Joe's ear.

"Abby?"

Silence .. . ."Yeah? I should go."

Luka closed his eyes. It was so hard. Why did it have to be so hard? For all of them. "Okay. Call me when you can."

"Okay. Take care of yourself."

"I will. We're at Niko's for now."

"Good, I'm glad. Luka ... . tell whoever you need to."

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He found a quiet moment that night.

"Niko, we should talk."

"Are you okay Luka?"

"No . . . not really."

"Abby?"

"Yeah."

"What? You can tell me."

Luka took a deep breath. "I was gone too long. It was too much for her. I made promises to her. . . . .and I didn't keep them. I thought. . .. I didn't think it would be a problem again." Maybe the best thing was to just say it. Another deep breath. "Abby had .. has a drinking problem. She was fine for a long time, but she started drinking again while I was gone. I guess it got pretty bad. She felt she had to. . .it would be best if she. . . she checked herself into a. . .. a . . treatment center."

"A treatment center? You mean rehab? She's an alcoholic?" His brother had married an alcoholic. What had he been thinking?

Luka nodded. _She's not a drunk, Carter. Yes. She is_. Is that why the ring had stayed in his pocket?

"She was drinking . . . .with Joe. .. ?"

Luka nodded again.

"And while we were there? Is that why she was so .. . . ?"

"Yeah."

"But she's a doctor. She was working .. . .taking care of patients?"

Niko's confusion mirrored Luka's own. He didn't know what to say.

Luka sat down and put his head in his hands.

Niko sat next to him, and said nothing, but rested his hand on his brother's back. "It's good you're here Luka, with family, people who love you and Joe." They sat in silence for a long time, then finally Niko spoke. "I don't know if this is the right time or not. But, maybe .. . . .Dusan gave me these." He pulled two letters out of his pocket, one with Luka's name on it one with his own. "Tata wrote us letters. Do you think he knew?"

"That he was going to die? Probably. He knew everything, didn't he?"

"You think he did it on purpose?"

"Sent us away?"

"Yeah."

"Probably."

"I thought we could read these together."

"Now?"

"Why not?"

They sat back on the couch and opened their envelopes. Luka began to read.

_Dear Luka,_

_First, I want to thank you for the time and the care you gave me. Having you here with me was so important to me. I hope you know that. Just in case we don't see each other again, I had a few things to say to you that I want you to remember. It was so good to see you finally let go of your pain. To see you happy again. Whatever happens in your future son, don't live in the past. Don't hang onto your hurts. You are so like your mother that way. Let it go and live each day. Enjoy your wife and son and appreciate them. Keep in touch with Niko. You have each other for life even miles apart. Distance can never truly separate us from the ones we love. I never let it separate you from me. Don't be afraid to love or to live. We only part to meet again._

_God Bless You and Keep You,_

_Tata_

Luka folded the paper, his eyes wet. So much to lose all at once. Why always all at once?


	31. Blue Christmas

A/N: Thanks to Kate and K for your reviews and confidence! And thanks to Cheryl for her preview/review. As for the question: How long will this thing get? I've started jokingly referring to it as the Luby War and Peace (it goes on and on and on and on). The issues Zabel threw on the table aren't small. So, pretty much 40 is a given. After that? I suppose it depends if there's anything left to say. There's definitely a time when stories should end. As I've been writing some twists and turns came into the story – so I hope to keep you all interested as we move through it.

Blue Christmas

"I'm not ready." Abby shifted the phone, played with her hair.

"To see me. You want to be apart for Christmas?" Luka stared out the window, hand on hip. Shifting his weight.

"I just. . . I need more time. I need to get this right."

"Get what right?"

"I mean, I need to get well. I need to be in a certain place when I see you again."

"Are you afraid of me. . . afraid to see me?"

"No. .. . it's not that. I'm. . I. I just. .. I don't want. . . . . I just need time. Besides I don't want Joe to spend his Christmas here." Maybe still a little afraid. Maybe that too.

"He wouldn't care about that. He'd just be happy to see you. He misses you."

"I miss him too - and you."

"I want to see you. Is that so horrible?"

"No, of course not. I just.. . . I need to do this first."

"Do what?"

"Get better. Be me again."

"You can't do that if I visit you on Christmas? Bring Joe." He ran his hand through his hair. Trying to understand.

"I'm not ready." Pleading, soft.

He sighed, gave in. Softly like a caress, his hands on her face. "Okay."

"Really okay?"

"Really okay. If it's what you need to get well, we'll be fine."

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"What do you think Joe? What should we get for Mama for Christmas? Chocolate? Shall we send her some chocolate?" Luka was running out of ideas. Last year was so easy. Even with Ames. So easy. _I'll never let anything take this away_. Anything? Anyone? _We'll work together to raise our son_. Together. _You stood in front of those people and you promised me we'd do it together."_ For better or worse. _First of all, I love you. I do_. Till death us do part.

"Luka?" Tatiana came up behind him.

"Hey."

"How are you?"

"I'm .. . . .fine .. . ."

"I'm sorry I haven't been by since the funeral. I called Ana, she said you were all up to your eyes in casseroles and visitors. . so I thought .. . .But I've wanted to see this guy again." She reached out, took Joe's small hand. He didn't look much like Marko, but seeing Luka with a baby again was unsettling, took her back. "I just, I wanted to say. . .how special your father was to me. He really. . .he took me under his wing when my parents died. He was a great man."

"Yeah . . .he was. . . . thanks. . .and thank you for all you did. . . when he was sick. "

"I didn't do much."

"It was a help."

When he smiled at her like that, it took her back even farther. She was fourteen again and gawking at her sister's boyfriend. She blushed. "I'm glad. You and Joe shopping?"

"Trying to find something to send Abby."

"You aren't going home for Christmas?"

"No. . . no we're staying here."

"Oh."

"So any ideas?"

"What?"

"Gifts. .. . . "

"For your wife? Well I'm sure anything you send. I don't know her. What does she like?"

"I. .. . I'm not sure this year... . . . "

"Jewelry?"

"No. . I don't think so. . . .I gave her a necklace last year. . .. "

"A scarf? Scarves are nice? Perfume?"

"No .. .. maybe. .. .maybe I should just send flowers this year. I'm not sure a package would get there in time anyway."

"No probably not. And what about Joe? What does Joe want for Christmas this year?"

Luka looked at his son. "Joe? What can Santa bring you?"

"Mamamamammamama"

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Luka picked up the phone. "Hey, Tatiana. It's Luka. . . .I'm in trouble. Can you help me?"

"Luka? Anything. What do you need?"

"I need help. .. .shopping."

"Shopping? You mean for Christmas."

"Yeah. .Niko, Ana, the kids. . .even Joe. I just. .. "

"No problem. I'm free tomorrow. We can go together."

"Thanks. That would be great."

"No problem. I want to help."

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They walked through the store browsing, he looked over at Tatiana. "I owe you."

"No, you don't. It's fun."

"I don't think I have much of the Christmas spirit."

"Well, maybe you need these." Tatiana reached over, handed him a pair of Reindeer antlers.

_Did I ever tell you how hot you look in antlers?__You were gone forever. I can't just turn it back on_. He dropped them back on the shelf as if they'd scorched his hands.

"No, thanks."

"Did I say something?"

"No . . .no of course not. So a train or a truck for Joe?"

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Abby's voice was clearer, stronger. "Did you buy Joe's Christmas gifts?"

"Yeah took care of it today."

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"We're going to take Joe and the kids on a sleigh ride outside of town. Spend the day in the country. Then Ana's going to make dinner, and we'll go to Midnight Mass."

"Sounds like fun."

"Yeah .. .I think he'll like the horse."

"I wish. . . .. ."

"Me too."

"I feel like I'm starting to get a handle on things. Things I just didn't before."

"That's good. You want to tell me?"

"When I see you."

"Which will be?"

"A couple more weeks. I think. I think I'll come to you."

"You want to come here?"

"It's part of you. I think I should.. . .it might help me understand."

"Understand? Me?"

"You . . .me. .. us.. . .all of it."

"You think so?"

"It seems like the right thing now. Give me another week. I'm a work in progress. How are you?"

"Tired. It isn't easy parenting 24/7, even with help."

"No."

"I'm sorry, Abby. I didn't. . . .I just wasn't thinking. . .about what it was like . . . . . ."

"I didn't tell you."

"Why?"

"I didn't feel like I could. I don't know. It's part of what I'm trying to figure out, to understand. Get a handle on. It's a lot of things, Luka. I should have been able to tell you, and I couldn't."

"I should have known."

"You're not a mind reader."

"You told me to get on a plane. That should have been enough."

"And I could have told you I'd downed a bottle of wine. That probably would have been enough. You didn't know."

"If I could go back .. . . "

"I know. .. me too."

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The horses pulled the sleigh. The snow fell lightly as everyone climbed under the blankets. Joe sat nestled warm and safe between Luka and Tatiana. Niko and Ana exchanged glances and smiled. It was a perfect Christmas.

Luka gazed down at Joe. _I'm afraid I'd mess it up, Luka_.

_We won't._

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"How was the sleigh ride?" Abby almost regretted telling him not to come. . .keeping Joe away . and. .Luka .. . .but it was better this way. She was sure it was better.

"Joe loved it. He threw a snow ball at me."

"Did he? Are you keeping him warm?"

"He's fine. He's having a nap before Mass. He loved his gifts."

"You gave them to him already?"

"We do gifts Christmas Eve. But I saved yours for Christmas morning."

"Mine?"

"I made him a photo book of you. Like I did when I was gone."

"What's it called? Mommy goes to Rehab?"

"Abby." His tone was disapproving, but it was good to hear her joke again. "It's called Mommy and Joe."

"Luka. . . . ." Wistful and soft.

"The last picture is the one of the three of us from our wedding."

"A happy ending."

"Yes."

"That's what I want."

"Me too."

"Luka?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for the roses. The red and the white together . . . they. .. they're beautiful."

"I'm glad you like them."

"They're perfect. Luka?. .. ."

"Yeah?"

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas Abby."

_I know it's corny . . .but it seems we always .. .find each other.. . ._


	32. The Next Step

A/N: We're edging closer to the reunion. Thank you for the reviews. I have to say this review: "Unless it's something that allows Luka to wax poetic about his undying snowglobe love for Abby." Gave me a laugh trying to imagine how I could write dialogue like that. Anyway thank you all for the smiles. As we are without on-screen Luby indefinitely we owe each other a few. :)

The Next Step

"We can't put it off any more." Niko looked at Luka over their morning coffee. Joe sat on Luka's lap, as Luka attempted to get more food into his mouth than on his shirt.

"What?"

"Tata's estate. You're the executor. We have to deal with the property. Pay the bills. Decide about the apartment."

"What was he thinking making me executor? I don't even live here."

"That was the point. He knew you'd have to come back to Croatia. And deal with me."

"So that was the plan? If I didn't do it on my own, he'd reach out from the grave?"

"I think so."

"He was a smart man."

"He was - and a good one. Anyway, we have to take care of this stuff Luka. Go through the apartment. Make decisions."

"Okay…. Okay. It's not so easy with Joe."

"Tatiana has the week off with school closed. She can watch him while you go through the apartment and the papers. I'll help after work."

"You think she'd want to do that?"

"For you? Yes."

"For me?"

"Family Luka. She helped with Tata, didn't she? Bringing dinners. Visiting him in the hospital. She's a good woman and a kind one. She and Ana have become good friends over the years."

"Still, it's her vacation." Joe picked up a handful of eggs and made motions to feed Luka. "A kindergarten teacher doesn't want to spend her time off with a baby." Luka nibbled the egg and Joe's fingers, to Joe's delight.

"She likes children. Ask her."

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"I'm going through my father's things. Packing up boxes. Settling the estate." Luka lay on the bed, looking out the window. Talking to her. . .

"How's that?" Abby's voice was soft and sweet.

"Weird. Going through someone else's life. It's just weird. I found love letters from my parents." He could almost feel her hand on his shoulder. See her brown eyes.

"Yeah? That's sweet."

"Sweet and weird. How are you?"

"Actually. . .good. . .sort of. .. ."

"You want me to come for New Years? We could fly in, spend a few days. Fly back."

"That's a lot to put Joe through."

"Maybe I could leave him with Niko and Ana for a couple of days."

"Luka. . . . . "

"Not ready?"

"Not yet. But I'm getting a handle on things. I really am. It's a new way to think. It's a lot to learn."

"To think?"

"Yeah, to think about myself. That there's this part of me that I don't have to choose to be .. .to . .indulge and it's not just about the drinking. It's how I think about myself. About my life. About everything. It's a whole new way to be."

"But you've gone through this before."

"Some of it. Maybe, I heard it before, but I don't think I got it, or at least not all of it, or enough of it. I think I'm getting it this time. But I need. .. .. "

"More time?"

"More time. I feel like there's all this stuff. . . .I just carried around. . . .it just made it so hard. . .. ."

"Made what hard?"

"Everything. .. .being happy"

"But we were happy. Weren't we? You were happy with me? I mean before."

"Yes. . .. .yes of course I was happy with you. I just need to be happy with me too. It's not about how I feel about you. It's about how I feel about me. I can't make you responsible for me being happy . . .for feeling good . .or safe. It's just not fair. Not to you or to me or to Joe. I fell apart without you. But that's not your fault Luka. That was my fault. . .I let things get away from me. There's a lot to it. I'll tell you. I promise."

"Everything?"

"Everything you want to know. How does Joe like his book?"

"He loves it. Favorite one."

"I miss you guys."

"We miss you too."

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"What are you doing tonight?" She was restless. It had been so long since she'd seen him. Maybe she'd been wrong keeping him away.

"Ana and Niko are having some friends in. You?"

"I'm still really tired. I don't think I'll make it to midnight."

"I can call you if you think you'll be awake. Wish you a happy New Year."

"You'd have to wake up kind of early."

"I have a cute alarm clock."

"He's getting up early there?"

"Yeah."

"I think I'll just crash."

"Do you remember?. . .. " Luka had a vision of them dancing in their apartment. The music low, the only lights from the Christmas tree. Joe asleep. She was pressed into him, head on his chest. Two New Years together. . . .. only two. . . it wasn't enough. . . .

"Of course I do." _And what are you looking for? Someone to have a baby with? If that's what you think, then what are we doing here?_

"I gotta go."

"Luka? You okay?"

"Fine."

"Have fun." But not too much.

"Yeah."

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"Are you okay?" Tatiana found Luka standing off by himself looking out the window, everyone else clustered in living room, cheerful, laughing, drinking.

"Yeah . . .fine."

"You don't look fine . . .you look sad. Here." She handed him a drink.

Luka shrugged and took it. _You never asked me how I felt about that. If it was okay with me ._ .. . He stared down into the liquid depths as if looking for an answer . . .but none came. "Thanks for your help with Joe."

"It's my pleasure. He's a sweet boy. Hard to imagine . .. . ."

"What?"

"Nothing . . . .it's just . . it's just if he were mine I couldn't stand to be away from him for a day let. . .. alone . .. ."

"I was away . . . .for longer .. ." _Why didn't __**you**__ answer __**your**__ cell phone? You promised and I believed you. You said let's do it together. . .in front of everyone you promised... . _

"That's different Luka."

"Is it?" _What if I go shopping and leave him in the super market? I'll do the shopping._

"Ana told me."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone." She reached out, put her hand on his arm. "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

"What I'm going to do?"

"Are you and Joe staying .. . .. .here?"

"A little longer."

"Then? Then what?"

"Then Abby will come here, and we'll all go home."

"Abby is coming here?"

"A couple more weeks I think."

"Oh."

"I was surprised too. Sort of thought Joe and I would just go home .. . .but it's what she wants."

"I see. What do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing . . . . . .Come on. Join the party. Dusan is telling dirty jokes. . . . ."

Luka put his drink down untouched and let Tatiana take his hand and lead him back to the party.

He only hesitated for a second at Midnight before he leaned down and tenderly kissed his sleeping son on the forehead. "Happy New Year, Joe."


	33. Long Night's Journey into Day

A/N: I have periodically said this during the course of writing various stories, but this has been the most challenging chapter I've ever tried to write. I had some wonderful help from all three of my beta readers, and I sincerely appreciate that. I think Believe the Unseen would fit in right after this if anyone wants to weave it into their thoughts about the story. I may play off it in the future. But in my mind, Abby had a night flight out. The next one is the reunion chapter.

ETA: This chapter is intended as an artistic representation of Abby's progression through several weeks, arriving at the end, with a working knowledge of in essence how she has to think to be healthy and functioning. How that knowledge will be applied and struggled with and at times forgotten will develop in future chapters.

Long Night's Journey Into Day

_Please fasten your seat belts for take off._

She was on her way. To Luka. To Joe. It had been a long time. A very long time. It seemed like a life time ago. That first night. That first night after she'd told him about the drinking and got in the car and drove away. To get well. To find herself. To start the fight back. The fight for her life.

"Thanks for coming, Janet."

"How are you?" She studied Abby, forehead crinkled.

"I feel like hell."

Janet reached out a hand to rest it on Abby's arm.

Abby shook her head, looked down, couldn't meet her eyes. "You were right. You know that."

"It's not about being right, Abby. You know that." Her voice was gentle. Concerned.

"I screwed up." The tears came and Abby's face crumpled. She couldn't tell Luka, but she had to tell someone. It was too hard to carry it alone anymore. She knew she'd get nowhere till someone knew. Knew and understood. "I screwed up bad. . . . with Luka. . . . and Joe.. . . "

Janet watched her. "What happened?"

"I couldn't stop. I just couldn't stop. I .. . . there was part of me that didn't want .. .. to stop. And I needed. . .wanted. . . more and more. . . . and one night. . I got very drunk and. . . I. .. did something. . . "

Coburn nodded and waited.

"I had sex . . . . . . . . "

"I see."

"It's worse."

"Worse? What do you mean worse? There is no 'worse' Abby."

"I mean worse as in making it easier for my husband to hate me worse. It was Kevin Moretti."

"_Dr.__Kevin Moretti_? He left his position, didn't he?" Despite years of hearing it all, Janet found herself taken by surprise.

"Yes." Where was that hole to crawl into when she needed it?

"Because . . . .?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. His son was sick. .. . . .. I don't know. I couldn't talk to him. I couldn't face it. What I'd done. And Luka came home. . . . It was. . . . . . . . .. . " She shivered.

"Mmmmm." When Abby didn't speak. "Does Luka know?"

"No. He knows. . . .something. .. . I couldn't be with him when he got home."

"Were you and Kevin . . . .involved?"

"God . . . . no. . .it wasn't like that. .It was just... I was just out of control. . . .I felt so. . . . .lonely . .. it was the whole thing. . .sorry for myself, afraid Luka would never come back . . that he didn't want me anymore. .. . . . .I don't even remember how I got there. . . ." _I'm pretty enough in the dark though aren't I?_

"Are you sure ...you . . .?"

"Yes... . .I remember .. .enough. . . . . A total blackout would have been kinder. . . .. . I feel. . . . .. so .. . .. I must have passed out. . . . .When I woke up, I didn't remember, didn't know. . . I ran out, and I went home and got Joe and I tried to drive. . . . . . .. but I couldn't, and I got a cab, and I tried to get a flight to Croatia. . to get to Luka, but they wouldn't sell me a ticket .. .. . . . ... and then . ... I remembered. . . bits and pieces. . . but enough. . .too much. . . .. more than enough. .. . " A wave of nausea coursed through her body - whether from the withdrawal, the intense anxiety or the memory, she didn't know. _You play games like a schoolgirl who can have any boy and treats them all like crap_.

"You're right. You were out of control. As your sponsor, I have to encourage you to take responsibility for your actions. As an attending and head of OB, I have to say... what the hell was he thinking? "

"I mean. . .. I know. .. . I. . . . . God. . .. I hate it.. . .I hate myself . .. . . . I can't face Luka. . . . " _You're not that pretty. You're not that special._

"You're afraid. That's understandable. The big question is, do you need to tell him? Will it cause more harm to him?"

Abby nodded. "I'll have to if I want to. . .. be with him. Besides, he's asking. He'll want to know. I just don't know how. . . . it's going to hurt him so much. .. and what if he can't. .. . what if he can't forgive me? I just. . .. I can't stand to see the look on his face. . . He's going to hate me. He was . .. . he was even jealous of my father. .. . ." _Why don't you just call me a whore and get it over with? _

"Of your father?"

"It's complicated."

"Don't anticipate. You need to focus on getting well. Work the steps. They have an order for a reason. Don't go there till you get there. Then ask yourself what he needs to know, and let him be your guide. He may need to know less than you think, and he may understand more. In any case, you're going to places you don't need to go. Get well first Abby. Work the steps and wait and see."

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_Please be sure your tray tables are in their upright and locked position._

Coburn studied Abby. She looked better, not so strung out today. "How's it going?"

"Better."

"Good. Luka and Joe coming to see you?"

"No. I told Luka he should stay in Croatia."

"You did?"

"Yes."

"Are you avoiding him?"

"Yes."

"Abby?"

"I have to. I have to till I'm strong enough Janet. I have to be strong enough to deal with it. Whatever he feels . . . or doesn't feel. I have to be strong enough."

"Because of what you feel you need to tell him?"

"Because of all of it. Because I don't think he really got my disease. He never thought of me as an alcoholic. And now he has to, and I don't know what that means." _He's an alcoholic. Yeah, well so am I._

"What it means?"

"Yeah . .. when . . .he looked at me. . .I knew. .. I knew he saw me and not a drunk .. . . .and now. .. .. .I don't know what he's going to see . . .. I don't know what I'm going to see when I look in his eyes, and it scares me. And I have to be ready. I have to be ready for anything . .. .he feels. . . .thinks .. . .believes. . . . and not just . . . . .fall apart. . . ."

"You have to believe in yourself, Abby. Work the program. Follow the steps. Have compassion for yourself. That's the first step. Then you can be strong enough to have compassion for him. To have faith."

"I have to know .. that I can be different. That I don't have to keep slipping backwards every time something gets in my way. Because this is going to be hard, Janet. This is going to be very hard. For him . . . .and for me." _I put up with a lot Abby. . Carter . . .your mother. .. your moods... . ._

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_Please note the location of the emergency exit nearest your seat._

Abby sat in group. Listening. Hearing other people talk about their experiences. What they'd done under the influence. What they'd lost. She wasn't alone. She wasn't unique or special. She was just a drunk, like she'd told Carter. Just a drunk. How had she ever forgotten?

Linda was talking with her hands, making the motions to match her story. "And this one night, I just ... . I just put it all on the line. The house, my kids college money, everything .. .all on red. .and I spun the wheel, and it was gone. .all of it. That was the last straw. He left me. If it wasn't for my sister, I don't know where I'd be."

Everything on the line. It was what she'd done, wasn't it? Gambled her family one night for more vodka. Because he was buying, and she was drinking. Because he wanted her and she'd wanted . . . .something. . . . A flash of self-awareness ran through her like ice water in her veins. She'd put it all on the line. And spun the wheel. The only question was red or black. The wheel was still spinning, and she had no idea where it was going to land, or what she was going to lose. She couldn't go back, but she could go forward. It was the only thing to do, and to hope he would want to go forward with her. Let it go, and do the work. That's what you can do for yourself and your husband and your son. Do the work. Tell the truth. Look yourself in the eye. No more pretending. No more excuses. Say it. Admit it.

"My name is Abby, and I'm an alcoholic. When I drink, I use sex. I don't even know I'm doing it. It's like a reflex. Like something inside me clicks off. But in this strange way, when a man wants me, it makes me feel like I have control. Like I have this power. That if a man wants me that I can't be all the terrible things I think I am. Tell myself I am. I give my body to them whether I want them or not. It's better if I don't want them because then I have all the power. They can't hurt me, not really. I just hurt myself. And I know. . . .. I think .. .it's what I deserve. This time though. .. I've hurt someone else. Someone I love." Because I don't just belong to myself anymore. I belong to him too.

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In case of a water landing, your seat cushion will act as a flotation device.

"Good morning, Abby. Nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Martin. We'll be working together for the next few weeks." They shook hands. Smiled.

"Hi."

"Make yourself comfortable." She extended her hand toward 'the couch', and Abby sat.

"I guess I should say, I've done this before."

"Rehab?"

"Not at a center before. But AA . . I've done it."

"I see."

"This is my second relapse. I was sober about six years before my first, then this time about four. But this one's been worse. I was able to stop last time. I couldn't this time. I got more out of control. Did things I hadn't . . .in a long time. . ."

"I see. It's not uncommon for each relapse to be worse. I guess you know that .. . "

Abby nodded. The tears came into her eyes.

"Would you like to tell me about it?"

"My son had an accident. He's a year and a half now. He fell off a play structure in September while he was with his nanny. He lost consciousness."

"I'm sorry. Was he badly injured?"

"No .. . .he was. .. he was fine. We had to do a lot of tests. . procedures. . .and I was scared . . .and I . . .I..."

"Yes?"

"My husband was gone, out of the country, and I couldn't reach him. I needed him. I really needed him, and I couldn't . .. find him. That night, I started to drink. .. .and I couldn't stop."

"Where was your husband?"

"Croatia. He's from Croatia. He was taking care of his father, multiple myeloma. He .. .just died."

"I'm sorry."

Abby nodded. "It was hard. . .without him."

"How long was your husband away?"

"About four months before the accident. . . . and about two more months after that. . ."

"I see. Did he know you were drinking again?"

"No. I told him the night I checked in. I'd only been drinking about . . two and a half months but ..it didn't take long .. "

"What?"

"To lose it completely."

"Lose what?"

"Myself."

"Why?"

Abby shrugged. "Because I'm a drunk."

"How did you feel about your husband being gone?"

"I didn't like it. . .. . it was hard. .. It was just so quiet without him. . . . . .. so lonely. . He left about a week after our wedding. We were supposed to be on our honeymoon. .. . .. "

"That must have been hard. Must have been disappointing to have him gone so long so soon after you were married. Did you tell him that you were unhappy?"

"Not. . . .not really. The morning after I drank for the first time, I asked him to fly home."

"What did he say?"

"He said. .. ." There were the tears again. Her stomach clenched. "He asked me not to make it harder."

"Harder for him?"

"Yes."

"But it was hard for you too?'

"Yes. . . .. but he didn't know. I didn't tell him. .. .how hard. .. "

"Why not?"

"Because I was afraid."

"Of what."

"Not being good enough. Not doing it right."

"Doing what right?"

"Being his wife."

"Oh. What happens if you don't 'do it right'?"

"They leave."

"Who?"

"Men. . . men leave. . .if you aren't . . . .. . good enough. .if you don't do it right .. .be what they want. . you to be . ..who they want you to be . . .."

"Who left before Abby?"

"Everyone."

"Everyone?"

"My father, my first husband, boyfriends, my brother. You name it. They leave. Even when they promise. They promise they won't. .. . .but they do." _If I'm such a horrible person, how can you possibly want to be with me?_

"I see. And you think if you can be 'good enough' they won't leave?"

The tears were pouring now. "I could hear .. I knew he was happy there. .. and I was miserable here without him. He said he missed me, but he never asked me to come to him. . .there was always some reason why he couldn't come home. He promised. . ... .. . I thought. .. he was different. . . .he wasn't just my husband. . . .he was my best friend. . . . .. .I didn't think. .. .I believed him. . . . . .he promised. He promised that we'd do it together.. . "

"But you ended up doing it alone?"

"Yes."

"That must have been very hard with a stressful job and a young child."

"Yes. . . . . .I just. . . .I believed that he wouldn't . . . .he wouldn't leave .. me. . . .".

"He was gone a long time. Are you separated?"

Abby collected herself. Wiped her eyes. "He's in Croatia now, with our son, since his father died, while I'm here.. .but we're not. . .we're not separated."

"I see. So when you told him you needed to come here, how did he react?"

"He . .. he wants. . to help me. . he wanted us to do it. . .together. . . "

"I see. You told me you felt he left you. Do you think he thinks he left you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you said he was your best friend?"

"Yes."

"Were you his best friend?"

"I. . . .. I guess I didn't think about it like that. Yes, I think so."

"Maybe he was gone so long out of concern for his family, his father. It seems to me that he didn't have a clear picture of what you were going through and feeling. Do you think that's true?"

"Yes."

"Did he visit his family often?"

"No. . .no it had been .. .years. . . . .probably about seven years since his last visit."

"Does he have a lot of brothers and sisters?"

"One brother."

"Sometimes people in those situations feel duty bound or have feelings of guilt, especially if they haven't seen their family in a long time. Did you ever ask him what it was for him, making him stay?"

"No.. . . "

"No?"

"I was too afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid to find out I was right."

"About?"

"That he was happier there without me. That he was sorry . . . . " She started to cry again.

"Sorry?"

"That we were married. . "

"That would have been very painful. And scary."

Abby nodded. The tears flowed.

"Sometimes we tell ourselves things that aren't true. Do you think if he had understood what you were going through that he would have acted differently? Is that possible?"

"Yes. . . . yes. . that's possible. . he would have. . . .that makes it worse . . . . "

"What worse?"

"I betrayed his trust."

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_Please stow all carry on baggage in the overhead bins provided_.

Dr. Martin settled back. Abby sat down. Looked at her without talking. Waiting. Unsure. She felt on edge. Tired of the probing. Tired of the work.

"Abby I was wondering if you would like to talk about your father today? We spent time talking about some of the men in your life, but not him. What do you remember about him?"

"I remember. . He showed up last year. Didn't tell me who he was till I tracked him down in a bar to try and get him some medical treatment, and then when I got angry and left, he disappeared."

"I see. That must have been difficult."

"Par for the course."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning it wasn't easy, so he left."

"He left because things weren't easy when you were young?"

"My mother is bipolar, and she drank."

"And your father left you in your mother's care?"

"Me and my brother in her care. If you can call it that."

"I see. Was your brother older or younger?"

"Younger. I took care of him. I took care of a lot of things. Most of the time."

"That must have been hard."

"Yeah .. . it pretty much sucked."

"It sounds to me like you resent that."

"Yes. . . I guess I do."

"That must be hard."

"I'm not supposed to resent my father for leaving us?"

"I think you could choose not to resent him."

"I mean I've got to the point where I can be with my mother. . . . .let her in my life but to be happy about my childhood?"

"Not happy. But to accept it. To accept your parents failed you and forgive them. It's your life now. Your choice. Is it helping you to resent it?"

"No."

"What do you remember about your father leaving?"

"I remember he used to have to leave to get work sometimes. He'd sort of drift in and out, and then one day when I was about seven he just sort of drifted out. . . .I tried to find him once .. .when I was young . .. .and then that was it.. . She drove him away... ."

"Drove him away?"

"My mother. She got out of control a lot. Before he left and after he left. A lot of mood swings." And the tears started again. God, she hated this. She swallowed hard. "And men . . .there'd be. .. men .. .and fights .. .with my Dad .. . .and .. . when she was drinking she'd say horrible things . .. . to him . .. .to me . . . . . .to .. .everyone. . . . .."

"That must have been very hard on you."

Abby nodded.

"You needed someone to take care of you."

She nodded again.

"And you ended up taking care of everyone else."

"I got so tired. . . . ."

"Then?"

"Then . . . .and now. . .I just got. .. I got tired. . .. you know? I thought it was finally different."

"Different?"

"That I wasn't going it alone anymore."

"And then you felt like you were."

"And then I felt like I was."

"Everyone gets tired, Abby. That's normal. It's part of life. That's when we ask for help."

"I. .. I guess . .I've never been very good at that .. . .even when people offer."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't. .. .. .. know . .. . .because. . . . because what if you ask . . . and they still let you down. It hurts less .. .if you . .. .don't ask. . .. .or if you give up first . .. ."

"Does it?"

Abby was silent.

"What if they don't let you down? Sometimes people do, and sometimes they don't. It's a risk for all of us Abby."

"I guess it is."

"If one can understand and accept that, know that you can survive even if you are let down, one can have faith anyway, _and_ support when you need it."

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_For your safety and the safety of others, please comply with all lighted signs_.

She was going to do this. Figure this out. Fix it. No backing down this time. "I sabotage myself."

"I see." Dr. Martin sat back in her chair. Nodded. Waited.

"I knew.. . .. . .I knew I was screwing up. And it was like I wanted to screw it up. I was.. . .so angry that he'd left. Angry and hurt. . . .and angry at myself for being angry .. .. and for not being . . . .not being. . . . .I don't know, for not being whatever I was supposed to be so he wouldn't leave, or so he'd want to come back. . .. _" Why don't you just break up with me?_

"You felt you were screwing up?"

"I was putting everything at risk - my marriage, my career, my son, but I couldn't stop myself."

"Why do you think that was?"

"I don't know. I felt so out of control. I was.. . .. I was afraid with Luka gone. I just I told myself I couldn't do it."

"Couldn't do what?"

"I don't know. Cope. Be a mother. Hold it all together."

"Why do you think you sabotage yourself?"

"So. . .I . . . . . .so I get. .. . what I deserve. . . . . . . "

"Which is?"

"To be left. ... . . "

"Is that what you believe?"

"Sometimes. . and sometimes I think . .. I don't know it's like a test .. . .like how far I can push them .. .. .before they leave. . . . .I don't know .. .I don't know. . . ." _I don't want help .. . I don't want to be pitied. . . I don't want to be saved. ._ . .. .

"Like your father."

"Is that it? . . .My life is ruined because of my parents. I'm doomed?"_You're always so good, and I'm so bad._

"That's up to you Abby, isn't it? Are you choosing to be doomed? Or are you going to choose something different from here out? You can't change your parents' choices, but you can make your own."

"I don't want to be doomed anymore. I want my family. I want my family back. My career. My life."

"Then you have to start by believing you deserve to have them."

"That's not so easy."

"That's why you're here. I look at you, and I see a woman who helped to care for her brother in very difficult circumstances. Who got herself through college and med school and has almost completed her residency. Who has worked hard on her sobriety in the past. Who has tried very hard to build a life with her husband and her son. And who is working hard now on her sobriety. What do you see?"

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_If there is a change in cabin pressure, an oxygen mask will drop from the ceiling._

"Mom?"

"Abby. . . I know . .I know ... don't look at me like that. I had to come. When you told me Luka and Joe weren't going to be with you, I couldn't bear the thought of you alone on Christmas."

"Not even if I wanted to be alone on Christmas?"

"No one really wants to be alone on Christmas. I brought some things for you . .and for Joe when you see him again . ..and Luka. How are you Abby? I wish. . I wish you had called me if you needed help. .. . I could have helped out with Joe. . .or something. . ."

"I'm okay Mom. . .getting . .better.. . "

"I'm sorry Abby. I had hoped. . .. ."

"I know, me too. You want to take a walk?" Somehow the room seemed too small with Maggie in it.

They walked in silence for a few moments till Maggie spoke again. "I know. . .I know it's partly my fault .. . .I know. .. I wasn't a very good mother to you. But I tried. ... ." She didn't know what to say that wouldn't make it worse. She had seemed so happy. So strong.

"Don't. Just don't take the blame. I did this to myself. I've spent my whole life blaming someone for my problems, you. .. or Dad. . . or Richard . .or Eric. . . . and now, you know, even Luka. And it's me. It's just it's me. If I don't own it, I can't fix it and this time I have to fix it. I have to learn how to really fix it."

"You will Abby. It's just...I made a lot of mistakes myself, but I never meant to hurt you or Eric."

"I know. I understand. I mean really now I do. I never got how you could really love me. . .and do. . .some of the things you. .. . did. But now I guess I know." She felt the tears sting her eyes. It was possible to love your child and hurt them. To love your husband.. . and .. . . "I guess. . I guess. .I understand Dad better now too... . . .. "

"Oh Abby. .Luka's not. .. He didn't leave. . ... .you.. .?"

"No. .no, he wanted to be here. I asked him to keep Joe in Croatia for now. I can't. .. I can't see him yet. "

Maggie stopped looked at her daughter. She had been there, more than once. She could imagine what had happened to make Abby keep Luka away. Her poor girl. "He loves you, Abby. He won't walk away. He's not your father, I know he's not."

"Yeah. ... . he's a good man." He wasn't her father. He wouldn't leave Joe. She knew that, but she also knew she'd given him reason to leave her. She wasn't strong enough to face the possibilities yet. And she knew she had to be. Of all the things to have done. Just talking to Maggie about it, letting herself jump ahead, she could feel herself sliding back.

"You're a good person too, Abby. You are. You have to believe that. You have to believe in yourself. Just because you had a rough patch, it doesn't change that. You're strong. You're an amazing person. You have to know that to get well."

"When Joe was born, you told me that I was like you . .. "

"I meant. .. that you were like me .. .that you wouldn't give up on your child.. .no matter what. .. . .not _that_. . . .. You don't have to be like me, Abby. It took me too long in my life to do what I needed to do to stay. . . .well. You don't have to wait. Do it now honey. I'll help you any way I can. Luka will help you too. I know he will if you let him. Don't keep him away too long. Don't punish yourself. .. or him."

"I'm not punishing myself Mom. And I'm certainly not trying to punish Luka. . I'm trying. . I'm trying to survive and get strong .. . so I can be a good mother and a good wife again. I haven't been. . . I haven't been." Abby began to cry and Maggie took her daughter in her arms and rocked her.

"I know you've had a hard time. But, you'll get well. You have a lot to fight for. Don't be me. Don't give up on yourself or your marriage. Luka's lucky to have you, and so is Joe. This was just a slip. You'll be okay."

"Sometimes I don't know."

"When you don't know, you have to believe."

"I'm so scared. I'm still so scared. . that I'm going to lose them."

"You can't think like that. You have to have hope. It's Christmas. Christmas is all about hope."

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_If you are traveling with a small child, please place your own mask before assisting your child._

Abby took a deep breath. "I made some bad choices. I did and said things. . .that hurt people and myself. But, I'm not a terrible person."

"No you aren't." Dr. Martin smiled.

"I mean I do good things too. I try hard."

"I can see that you do. That you are trying hard."

"I just spend so much time telling myself this load of crap about myself and ... . and other people. I hang onto all these old hurts."

"Those are things that can change. If you want them to change."

"I've tried. I am trying."

"I believe you have. That you are. What do you believe?"

"That I can't just go on the way I have been. That I have to accept this part of me, but I don't have to give into it. That I can get well and stay well. That it won't be easy. But that it's possible to change, to really change not who I am, but how I think and what I do and don't do."

"I believe you can. It's easier with help."

"It's hard to ask for help."

"You've said that before."

"Maybe it's about more than being let down. .. . .maybe it's also that I'm afraid people will see. . ."

"See what?"

"Who I really am."

"And would that be so bad?"

"That's the thing isn't it? I have to stop thinking that it is. That it's wrong to show weakness. . That I am a terrible person. . .."

"A terrible person?"

"Yes. I'm not. So . .. . why do I . .?"

"Why do you think?"

"Because I'm afraid."

"What's the alternative?"

"Faith. 'Faith in a power greater than ourselves'."

"Yes. Whatever that is to you."

"I've always had trouble with that part. . ."

"What feels right? What's greater than you?"

"Love. . . love is greater. . . "

"Then start there. . ."

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_In the event of turbulence, the seat belt sign will illuminate._

One more week. Abby took at deep breath, looked at Dr. Martin and said it. "I am not my mother."

"No, you're not."

"And Luka is not my father. And I don't have to keep making the same mistakes all my life. I don't have to give up when things get tough. And I can catch myself when the tapes in my head start. And I can make different choices. I can. I just have to work the steps every day, and I can't stop if things .. get . .. good again."

"If?"

"When. . .when they get good again. Not even then. There's something I've been thinking about for a while now. I've made a decision. I'm going to Croatia."

"You are?"

"That's where Luka and Joe are."

"It may be difficult to get to meetings there."

"I know. I've thought about that. I'll talk to my sponsor every day. More than once if I have to. I have to do this."

"Why?"

"It's where it all started."

"Where what started."

"Luka . . .and me. . . and this hang-up I have, and I can't have it anymore. It's his ground zero. And maybe in some way that makes it mine too." _And you're married to a ghost._

"What's the hang-up?"

"I compare myself to his first wife. I compare our life to what he had. . .or could have. .. I .. . it scares me, and if I don't face it, it always will."

"And now is the time?"

"Yes. It's the time. Because I have to be strong enough whatever happens, and if I see him there, I believe I'll know what's right. For him. .for me . .for Joe. And I'll have to accept whatever that is, even if it's not what . . .I want."

"Turning your life over?"

"Turning my life over."

"You know, Abby, it's a given that human beings let each other down. They hurt each other even when they don't mean to. That's just part of life. It doesn't mean we stop living."

"Maybe. . .. maybe it's not about never making a mistake. . .never hurting each other .. .. maybe it's about loving each other anyway." _Let's just try to love each other and persevere._

"Maybe it is. Fear and love don't co-exist very well."

"No. .. they don't."

"Just remember to choose which you want to live with. Make the choice every day."

Abby nodded. Fear or love. . .fear. .or .. love. .. .Love.

"If you want the program to work, you have to chose faith over fear. You have to believe there is something greater than you that's always there, no matter what the other guy chooses."

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There is no smoking allowed at any time on the aircraft.

Janet considered her. She looked good. Rested. Strong. "So, plans?"

"I have to check in at work. Find out if they'll take me back, and then I'm going to Luka."

"In Croatia?"

"Yes."

"He's not coming home?"

"I told him I want to go there."

"Really?"

"Yes. I want to see him there. I want to understand its hold on him. I want to stop being afraid."

"Of Croatia?"

"Of his past. Of what it means to him. Of all of it. I'm tired of being afraid."

"I'm glad. What have you decided to tell him?"

"What he needs to know."

"Are you really there yet, Abby?"

"I don't know. If he doesn't need to know, I won't tell him. If he does, I'll have to. I don't see a way around it."

"You could let him know where you are in the steps, the process you are going through. That it might be better to wait till you are ready."

"If it's like an elephant in the room, how can I let that go on? I can't do that to him, Janet. Part of our problem is that I'm not honest with myself or with him."

"There's an order to the steps for a reason."

"You're saying I shouldn't tell him?"

"I'm saying it may be better if you work the steps in order."

"That's what I'm trying to do. I'm trying to do that and not lie."

"Okay. But Abby you know what it comes down to is what you think of yourself. Not what Luka thinks."

"I know that."

"And you have to forgive yourself."

"I understand what happened. And I know what I need to do so it never happens again. I'm not going to hang onto it. But there's no way around, only through."

"You don't have to blaze your own trail. There's a path, Abby."

"I know. I'm on it. I really am. Thanks Janet. Thank you for everything."

"No problem. Call me any time. You know that."

"I will."

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_We hope you have a pleasant flight_.

"Luka?"

"Hey."

"I've booked my flight. Looks like two more days."

"Can't wait." He was tired of being in limbo. Waiting for their life to begin again. _Let's make it forever_.

"Me either. Listen, I was thinking."

"Yes?"

"I'd like it if the first few days, could it be just us. Just you, me and Joe - just for a little while. I'd love to meet your family, but. .. ."

"Great idea."

"Really?"

"Really. Joe and I... we need some time with you too." _It's been seven years, Abby._

"Give him a kiss for me."

"I will."

"I love you guys."

"We love you too."

_This is something we both want._


	34. Amends

A/N: Lest you think I'm not feeling the weight of the story, I am up to five readers. Thanks Alexis and Cheryl for your support and your insight.

Amends

Abby sat, staring out the window of the plane, biting her lip, as they circled Zagreb. Deep breaths. One day at a time. You just have to get through today. Don't think about tomorrow. But today. . .today she was going to see them again. She had missed them like crazy. She wanted to be with them. And she was so nervous. Love not fear. Love and faith.. .. .and yeah .. maybe some hope too. Hope was good. Okay, she could do this.

She waited in the customs line. Her hand shook when she handed over her passport. Not a good idea. Her bags were searched.

She walked out into the terminal, looking around. .. where?. . . where. . ?

There they were. Luka was walking toward her, holding Joe, smiling ... .. smiling. God she'd missed that smile.

She walked briskly toward him, and he put his free arm out. She put one arm around him, and one around Joe, kissing him on the cheek. "Hey Joe." He put his head on Luka's shoulder. It had been a while. Then she turned her face up to Luka. Nervous. Unsure. Awkward. He bent his head, and they gave each other a brief, chaste kiss. It was a start.

She reached out her arms to take Joe, but he buried his head further into Luka. Luka spoke to him in English and Croatian encouragingly, but he shook his head. Abby's heart dropped, her face fell. Then she took a deep breath of resolve.

"It's okay, Luka. It's normal. He needs time." They would all need time. So, he carried their son, and she wheeled her suitcase out of the airport. Abby sat in the back seat next to Joe. When he started to fuss, she tried to soothe him to no avail.

"Um.. .sometimes this works." Luka began to sing to him in Croatian, and Joe grew calmer. Abby sat, watching, and listening. It was beautiful. And it hurt like hell. She had no one to blame but herself. For any of it. For all of it. If she'd only got on a plane months ago. .. . If only . . . . . .. . At least Joe had Luka these past weeks. At least he'd had Luka.

He took her back to his father's apartment. "So, this is your father's place? This is where you were. . . ."

"Yeah. I've been packing up his things though. Looks different without them." He didn't think all the religious icons would exactly make Abby feel at home. He'd left the family pictures, and she stood transfixed by them now. There were boxes here and there filled with papers, mementos, the story of Josip's life. She gazed at the pictures of Luka's history, his past, his father's past, his father's father's past. Family lineage. Something unfamiliar. She sighed and looked around. "It's . .cozy."

"Tiny you mean." He smiled. "I'll cook some dinner if you want to have some time with Joe." She nodded. Joe was on the floor playing with a truck, making gurgling noises. "Brrrrrrrrrummm" She went over and sat down near him. He didn't look at her for the first fifteen minutes. She started talking softly, he began to glance at her a bit. She scooted closer. Watched him. He'd grown. Was taller. He was in a new outfit. Her son. Her baby boy. She reached out to touch him gently on his back. A light stroke. She was so engrossed, she didn't see Luka standing. . .watching. . . .It had been one of the hardest things. Feeling her pull away from him had been difficult and painful, but seeing her distant from Joe, that had been its own kind of pain.

They made small talk over dinner. About the flight. "Only a little turbulence." Joe. "He can say truck in Croatian." Work. "I had an interesting case that shift I worked." The weather. "We had rain yesterday." They took a walk through the neighborhood. Abby never knew pushing a stroller could feel so good. All those little things that she hadn't done for so long. Had missed. They didn't talk. Both lost in their own thoughts. Her gloved hands firmly on the stroller. His behind his back. When they got home, they sat with Joe on the sofa. He sat in Luka's lap, but Abby read the story. Pointed to the pictures. Goodnight Gorilla. She made the funny voices that used to make him laugh. On the third read, she got a giggle. He let her carry him into bed, and they put him down together. Walking into the living room, Abby collapsed onto the sofa and yawned.

"You must be tired." He stood, hands in his pockets, swaying nervously, looking at her. It was hard to believe she was here. She was really here. It felt surreal. Unreal. He'd wanted it. Been ready for it. Thought he'd been ready for it. And now. He didn't know. What he was ready for. And what he wasn't.

"Exhausted."

"Then you don't want to. . .?"

"What?"

"Talk."

"I was thinking, could we have one day together, just you and me and Joe, before we talk? I'd really, really like that."

"Sure. No problem."

She stifled another yawn. He picked up her suitcase and carried it into the bedroom. "If you're tired. . .".

"Thanks."

She went in, and he closed the door. She got ready for bed, and sat on the edge of it. He hadn't come in. He wasn't coming.

She went out to him. "I know it's kind of early for you, but are you . . . .are you coming to bed?"

Luka was stretched out on the sofa, ostensibly reading a book. He looked at her. "I . .. I mean .. . . I wasn't sure what would make you comfortable. . . . "

"Could you. .. . .would you. . .. just hold me tonight?"

"Yeah. . .of course."

She lay in the bed waiting for him. They were acting like polite strangers. Phone calls were not the same, were they? She sighed. He crawled in the bed next to her, and they lay side by side for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. She gathered her courage and rolled towards him, moving to rest in the crook of his arm. He slid his arm around her and absently stoked her arm.

"I'm glad you're here, Abby." He was. Whatever he knew or didn't know. They'd been apart long enough. That much he understood.

"Me too."

After she fell asleep, Luka slipped his arm out from under her and went back to the living room. He sat for a long time alone in the dark.

They spent the next day sight-seeing with Joe. That evening Abby asked for one more day. One more day to savor. .to remember .. to hold onto. .. . if . . . They took Joe to the zoo and tried to find their way back to each other. They avoided saying what couldn't be said, but churned in the back of their minds, and focused on enjoying their son. When Luka reached out to hold her hand, she smiled. But there was so much unspoken, unsaid, it was like a weight between them, and after two nights, Luka was ready to talk. Ready to know. She was back. The Abby he knew. But there was a gap. Something missing. Empty space between them. He didn't have her back. Not really. This couldn't go on.

Abby came out of Joe's room, and Luka stopped pacing to ask, "So Joe's asleep?"

"Yeah, the zoo must have really worn him out."

"So. . .can we talk now?"

"Sure. Yeah." Abby took a deep breath. "I guess the first thing I need to say is that everything that happened while I was drinking was because I was drinking. I made a lot of mistakes. I hurt people. I hurt myself. Worst of all, I hurt you and Joe. Some of those things I can make right, and some of them I just have to accept because I can't change them. But, what I can do for both of you is to stay sober, and to really get well this time. Not let myself get lulled into thinking I don't have to go to meetings or read . .or really. . .do the work. _All_ of the work this time."

"You drank before . . .it didn't seem to be that big a deal last time. What was so different?"

Abby sighed. "Maybe . . maybe it's the difference between falling off the curb and falling from the Sears Tower. There's a lot further to fall, and it hurts a lot more. There's a lot more damage .. . .It's not like I wasn't a mess when I was drinking then. I made stupid decisions. I hurt people, blamed people. You just weren't in that close of range. But you _know_ I had problems even before then. .. .In a lot of ways, the first time was a patch job. I got by. I didn't drink, but I wasn't really all that well. Come on, you remember - the self pity, the games, blaming other people. I . ..I've got all these tapes in my head. They tell me that I'm a bad person, that there's things in life I don't deserve, that things are never really going to work out for me. That people will let me down, leave me, and that pretty much it's what I deserve, what I should expect. "

"But you were different. You changed."

"I got better. I did. I did some of the work, but not enough of it. Not all of it. I started using crutches, Luka. Good crutches this time, but crutches - becoming a doctor. . .. . finally. .. and then you. When I was doing what I had wanted for so long, and then falling in love with you. . . . .I didn't hear the tapes, but not because I'd really stopped playing them. I could just focus on these wonderful things in my life, things I thought I'd never have, and I could get by . . even when things got hard I could get by .. . even when I stopped working the program. . .because I had . . .you. . . . .And I was well enough to tell you what I needed most of the time. .. And you were always there. .. "

"And then I left."

"But it's not your fault, Luka. It's not your job to stop my tapes. It's mine. It's not your fault that I'm an alcoholic, that when I start drinking so I don't have to feel the pain of what I tell myself - it just . .. It does things to me. . . .Things it's hard to understand if it doesn't do that to you . . . .. It changes me. I lose control. I hurt people. I hurt you and Joe. I _know_ that. I'm _sorry_. I'm _so sorry."_

"What happened, Abby? What won't you tell me?"

"Okay first, I have to ask you something. I know that you thought I was well when we got married, that my drinking wasn't a problem. It's never going to go away. I'm always going to be an alcoholic, and it was pretending that I'm not that got me in to trouble in the first place. I've got to do this right, Luka. I've got to go to meetings. A lot of meetings at first. I've got to follow up with my counselor and my sponsor. And I can't stop, not ever, not if I want to stay well. So. . . if this isn't what you want. . what you thought .. .. ... "

"What are you saying?"

"Just that. . . .I'd understand . . .if you don't . .. want .. .. "

"What?"

"Us. ... me. . .this .. .this life. . ."

"Of course I want you. How can you ask me that?"

"Because it's not going to be easy . .. for you . . . . . "

"_Tell me_." He was urgent.

"_Luka_. . . . "

If she couldn't say it, he would. "There was someone else."

Her eyes. He saw the answer there before she spoke. "_No_.. . .not like that .. . . there was one drunken. .. _stupid. . .._ . "

He knew it. He'd guessed, but he'd hoped. . .He'd _hoped_. . .. Somehow hearing it. .. . He turned his back on her, supported himself with his hand on the window, other hand reflexively lifted to his gut. Where he felt it.

It was like one of those patients asking you to tell them the truth, they can handle it.. . . . .But they can't, and you say it and watch them crumple. "It was just one _stupid _time. . . .Luka. . .It didn't mean anything to me. . .I was very . _.. very_ drunk. . . .and. .. . . I just. . . .I got _lost_. . . . I lost _myself _.. . . ." _Red or black .. red or black .. red or black. ._

"When?" He spoke very quietly. Controlled.

"While you were in Croatia."

"_When_?" This time it was louder, struggling for control.

"The night of the blackout. . . . "

"Right before. . . . .?" His head jerked then, turned to the side, but not to look at her.

"Yes . .. . . _Luka_ ... . .. . " She reached out tentatively to touch his back. He didn't flinch or pull away for which she was grateful, but he didn't look at her either.

It was awhile before he spoke. He took it in. _Where .. . where_. . . . not .. . she ..didn't.. . . . _not_. . their _home_. . .their .. . ._bed_ .. ? "You left Joe alone in a blackout?"

Even though he couldn't see her, she nodded. "With a sitter . . .yes. "

His voice was very quiet, his body very still. "Who?"

"It doesn't matter."

_"It doesn't matter_?"

"No .. . "

"Do I know him?"

"No." Meeting wasn't the same as knowing.

"Do you?"

"Not really." That was the truth. She didn't feel like she really had known him or had even wanted to.

"Does he work at the hospital?"

"No." Not anymore.

"So that's why you couldn't? . .. . We ... couldn't . . .? "

"Yes. I'm _so_ sorry. If I could take it back I would, and it would never, _never_ have happened if I'd been sober. . . I was very drunk . . I blacked out part of the night. . . It's what alcohol does to me." It sounded so lame, even to her. Such a lame excuse for causing him pain. This was agony. She was so ashamed.

"Yeah." He took a deep breath, found his courage. Turned to face her. Well, this was no worse than he thought. At least they weren't involved. He had steeled himself for this moment hadn't he? Told himself if she had chosen him, he'd live with it. He'd left. He'd been gone too long. "Okay. What now?"

"Well. . . .I hope we can work through it together. I hope you can forgive me_. I love you_. I want our marriage, our family. What . .. what do you want?" The wheel was still spinning, the ball in play. _Red or Black, Red or Black, Red or Black_. Abby worked her fingers.

"I want it too."

She hadn't known she was holding her breath till it came out in a gasp. And she could take another. "We just have to get past it." She reached out and took his hand. Tried to smile at him.

"Get past it." He repeated it numbly. _Get past it_? Okay, he'd have to get past it. He worked her hand with his fingers. He reached for her face with his free hand, brought her in, looked at her, just looked at her. Then he started to kiss her, gently, then more firmly. _Get past it_. Okay. He pulled back and led her to the bedroom. _Get past it_. He pulled off her sweater. She looked at him with eyes tinged with love and fear. He looked at her with eyes like the sea in a squall. He kissed her hard again, and she pulled back.

"Luka. . . "

"You don't think we need to . . . . . .?"

"Tonight?"

"Get past it." Reclamation. He needed it. He wanted her back. He wanted _them _back.

"If it's what you need. . . ."

"But you don't need it?" Didn't she? Didn't she miss what they had? Ache for it like he did?

"When it's right.. . . . . . "

"So, it's not right with me?" _Not with me?_

"I don't think tonight. . . .Do you?"

"No. . . you're right. Not tonight." He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. A moment later she heard the shower start. She sat on the bed and began to cry.

He found her lying in bed. "I'm sorry." It was all he could say. "That .. .was. . .. " In that moment, it was either blame her or blame himself. The latter was more familiar, easier to slide into. The former a slippery slope. . . down into the unknown… .. no end in sight. . .

She sat up. "Don't apologize to me. . . ... You're hurt. . I know that."

"I just. . . . I mean I knew. . _something _.. . and I don't want one night to ruin everything between us. .It's just. .. .Don't we have to .. . try. .to be together again? It's been a long time, Abby."

"It wasn't even a night, Luka . ... .I left. .. . ran out.. . . and I went home. . . .and I got Joe. . . .and I got us to the airport. .. . .But they wouldn't sell me a ticket. . . . I was still too drunk . . .. . I was trying to get to you. . .. . . " _Understand . .please understand .. . please forgive me. . .. don't . .. .leave. .. me._

He slumped on the bed, head into hands. It was too much to take in, too much to comprehend. "Seems like we kept missing each other .. . . . ." He felt. .. . .numb. He just wanted it the way it was. Just the way it was. Was he going to pay forever?

She came up behind him, put her arms around him. "We can find each other again. I've been thinking. It might be easier for you to get some perspective if you went to a meeting."

"A meeting?"

"Al-anon."

"Al-anon?"

"You know what it is?'

"Yes. . .. "

"Will you just think about it?"

"Yeah." He took her hand and brought it to his lips. Slid his hand up her arm. It had been so long. . . so very long. . . . and lying next to her .. . .and not touching her. "_Abby_. . . . " He turned to face her, stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "Do you want me to go? I can sleep on the couch." His head was on her neck, breath hot. Are you choosing me or not? _Tell me. Choose me_.

"No .. . don't go.. . ." She kissed him, if he needed this, she would give it to him. She slipped her hands under his T-shirt, up his chest, then back down and out and pulled it off. Let him remove hers, laid back on the bed. Just be in the present. Just be here with him. You love him. Just be here. She tried, but she found herself sliding back. She'd been violated, with her own consent, but still. As much as she fought them, the tears began to flow. She was ashamed. So ashamed of what she'd done. Of the pain she'd caused him. That there had been anyone but him.

It wasn't the same. It just wasn't. He couldn't stop the thoughts swirling in his brain. What had _he_ done to her? What had she let him do? What had she done to him? It made him want to. .scream, vomit, leave the room, have her. . . . He didn't know what he was doing or feeling. .He just had . . .. .They had to do something. They couldn't just go on. .. with this empty place between them. Could they? Maybe foreplay wasn't the answer. Maybe they should just. Do it. Get the first time over with. Maybe somehow that would. . .fix. . .it. He lifted his head to look at her. Get her permission. Look into her eyes. See her looking at him. Wanting him. Loving him. She said she did. But he couldn't. He couldn't see anything. Her eyes were shut tight, cheeks wet. She was crying. God Almighty what was he doing? He rolled away from her, picked up his clothes and left the room.

It was a few minutes before she came out. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. He'd been crying. The words were choked. "You weren't there .. You weren't with me .. . You didn't ... . want . .. .."

She couldn't answer. Then finally. "I tried. . . I'm just. . .I'm not ready. . ."

"You were with _him_. . . thinking about. . . . . ."

"_No. ._ .it's not like that . . .. .. . .. . "

"_Who was it_?"

She'd never heard his voice like that. "Luka. .. _.don't_. .. . . "

So much pain. In every word. "You don't want to tell me because it matters. If it didn't matter you would tell me."

She'd hurt him so much. How could he be asking for more hurt. . . _.how_?. . . "_Why_ do you want to know?"

"Because. . .I _have_ to. . . . . .. _Who Abby_?" His voice was harsh, raw, pained.

It came out before she could think. Mesmerized by the misery of the moment. "Moretti." It was just above a whisper.

Luka froze. . . ."Moretti?"

She nodded. What had she done? What had she done? _Red or Black. Red or Black. Red or Black._

"You said you didn't _know_ him?"

"I don't think I did. . _not really_. . . I never saw him outside of work . . except for . . .. .I didn't understand him . .. .Didn't want to. . . ." The panic was rising in her. _Explain. . . explain. .make him understand .. .._

"You told me you didn't _like_ him .. . . . . .called him _Mussolini_. ."

"I didn't. . _like_ him. .. . " In that moment she loathed him . .. loathed him for not doing the right thing, even if she couldn't . . .. loathed him and herself .. .for what they'd ruined. . .who they'd hurt .. . .what she'd lost . . .what they'd taken from him. .. from her ... . from _them _.. .. .. If it had been some twisted power play. .. .He'd won .. .He'd destroyed her. . . . She'd got nothing. . .Nothing .. . she wanted or needed. . . It had all been drunken illusion. . . . illusion . . and fear. . . He was talking now. .talking again. . . so angry so hurt. . . so. .. . .It was crushing...

"But you _wanted_ him. Your _boss_? He would ... he would. . .have been .. . _our boss_. I shook . . .. . .you let me shake his hand . . . . . . You . . you went out with him?. . . . ." Realization, confusion, betrayal, pain, disgust.

"NO .. no .. . .I didn't there was this work thing at a bar. . .and everyone else left .. .and I was already drunk .. . so . .. drunk . .. . . . . .and I drank .. .more .. .and I don't know . . _I don't know_ .. .I don't remember .. . .I don't know .. . .how. . .I . . . . .Luka .. . .. . _I didn't_ _want him_. . I wanted the drink he bought me . . .I _wanted_ .. not to hurt so much . . . .It was _nothing_ . .. . _. .Please_. . . ." Pleading. Desperate. She started to reach for him. Panic rising. "It's not what it seems like .. . . It wasn't. ._It wasn't_ .. . ._please_.. . .." How did you explain that your heart had stopped working? ... .That your soul had checked out .. . . That your body. ... . . took over. . .wanted to win . .. . .something . . .. . . .That there was no . . you. .. .there . .. It was just .. . .your body. .. .. .and something ugly .. . .. . .wanting .. .. . to destroy. . .. . yourself. . . .. wanting oblivion.. .. . .nothing . .like. . .nothing .. . like. . . _them_?

Before she could get too close, he took his hand and swiped it across the coffee table sending the day's clutter flying. Abby jumped. He stood then and paced the room like a bull in a pen, hand running through his hair. "I can't stay here."

_"What_?" She was afraid. She was very afraid... .of him .. .. for him. .. for them. ._Fear_ .. . . It was hard to imagine this going worse. It was hard to imagine _anything worse._

"I've got to .. . .I've got to go.. . .. ." He grabbed his coat.

"Luka _don't _. .. "

He was gone.


	35. Pick Your Poison

A/N: I'm really glad the last chapter resonated with so many of you. It was one of those that just poured out.

Warning: Adult language.

Pick Your Poison

Pick-up. Pick-up. Please pick-up. Thank God. "Janet? It's Abby. I'm in trouble. I screwed up. . . ."

"Abby? What happened?"

"Luka. . . I told him. . .He's so angry. He's so .. "

"Told him about Moretti?"

"Yes . .everything. . .He knows everything . . ."

"I thought you weren't. . . .. "

"He asked .. .. he. . . I had to tell him. It was awful . . He's so hurt. . He's so. . ."

"Abby. I know this is difficult. But you have to stay focused on what's in your control, which is what you say and do now, in the present. You aren't responsible for Luka's reaction."

"Do you really think that applies to this?"

"It applies to everything, Abby. You have to take responsibility for what you did, but there's lots of ways he could have reacted."

"Once I started, it just all came out. I said too much. I just wanted him to understand. I made it worse. I hurt him. I hurt him so much, and he's so angry . .. "

"He's indulging his anger right now. What are you indulging?"

Abby closed her eyes, took a breath. "Fear. I'm so afraid." I'm scared freaking shitless. He's gone. He can't be gone.

"Is that going to be helpful to you or Luka?"

"No. . . . .. no. . . .It's not." She had been pacing the room like a caged tiger. Now she stopped. Breathe. You have to breathe.

And what else could you choose right now?"

Eyes closed, hand to her forehead. Think. Think. "I could choose to have faith. I can have faith. I can try. I can try to show him how much I love him. But he left, he left Janet, and I don't know where he is. How do I make it right if I can't find him?" He left his cell. He's in Croatia. I'm alone with Joe. What am I going to do? What if he just never comes back? No, he wouldn't do that. He'll come back for Joe. What if he takes Joe? No .. . . .Don't think that. . He won't. .Janet's talking. Listen to Janet. .He'll calm down. He'll come back. We'll try again. I'll explain. . .. I'll listen . . .Breathe. . .Breathe. .

"Maybe 'making it right' for Luka looks different to him than it does to you. You have to wait till you can talk to him to know what he needs. Then use your tools, Abby, and be present. See what happens. Let's keep talking."

He'll never forgive me. Maybe he will. Maybe we can still fix this. Maybe.

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"Vodka on the rocks. Straight."

The bartender raised his eyebrows. Beer with his brother? Yes. But vodka? That was a new one.

Luka took the glass and downed it. He wanted to get very drunk. Very quickly. Hell, if it worked for her, maybe it would do something for him. He had wandered aimlessly for a while. Then it was cold. He hadn't noticed at first. Hadn't noticed anything. But all of a sudden it was too cold, and there was a light on. And something to ease the pain. He'd numbed himself before. He knew how. Maybe he was no expert .. . .like. . . . . or maybe he was. He'd done it before. All of it. Self-medicated. Booze and sex. But that had been when he wasn't with her. . . . . .. . . .and she'd. . . . .she'd. .. She'd done it . . .. . When she wasn't with you. . . . .When you'd been gone for .. . .months. . . . . broke your promise .. . . . . So she. .. She broke her vow. .. . . . Broke. .. . broke .. .what a good word. for it.. .broke .. . He felt broken Did she? Was she just as broken?

He waved at the bartender. "Another. You know what? Leave the bottle." What the fuck, huh? If she could do it, surely he could. He'd asked her on the phone one day.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

What did she drink? How much? And she'd told him. _How?_ At Neela's, in soda cans, water bottles, coffee. Unbelievable. Un-fucking believable. How much did she drink that night? The night she was with _him_. How drunk was she? This drunk? Or more? _Moretti._ The name made him sick. He was lucky he'd left the hospital. He would have... how did they say it? Cooked his ass on sexual misconduct. No, that wasn't right. Fried. . . yeah fried. . Sleeping with a drunk, very drunk, married resident. . . taking advantage of his position.. ..her vulnerable . . . .Fried his ass. .baked it. .. stewed it. . .. . barbequed. . . .whatever .. _. He shook my hand._ While she watched. _He shook my god-damned hand_. What a piece of. . .. .. . He downed another . . . . . . . .And then .. . right hook to the jaw, left to the gut, hands on his shirt thrusting him against a wall, hard, as hard as he could, once, twice, three times. He could see that ugly face screw up in pain, hear him pleading for mercy as he moved his forearm under his chin, on his neck, a little pressure at first, then harder and harder, till his eyes got big, and he had nothing but his eyes to plead . . .to beg. . . . .Letting go just at the last second to watch him fall in a heap on the floor at his feet. Gasping for air. Grateful to be alive. He'd screwed the wrong man's wife . . . . . .Lucky for both of them they were thousands of miles apart, and he'd made one smart move. Quitting. Getting his ass out of their hospital before Luka could kick it out. Humiliate him. Make him pay. Yes, he was damn lucky that he was gone. Professional humiliation was too good for him. . . . . . .He took another drink and looked around. Not many people here this time of night. Not like when he'd gone with Niko for beers at the end of a long day with Tata, while Tatiana or Ana sat with him, giving them a break .. . .a break. ... . . . broke. . .break. . .broke. . . while Abby .. . . . .while Abby drank. . . .. ._ I didn't know where you were half the time._ And wondered where he was. He'd never wondered where she was, had he? Always thought she was at work or home. . .never imagined .. . . . . _.Do you think I enjoyed being thousands of miles away from you and Joe? At times yes, I could hear it in your voice._ Why couldn't he hear it in her voice what she was going through? Why couldn't he? Why? _I hear everything you say._ What had happened? What had happened to them? You left, and she drank, and then she got very drunk. .. and she. .. . she . . .. .did things. . . . . things she was ashamed of. . . _What kind of things?_ He didn't want to think about it. He needed another drink. Maybe one more, and he wouldn't think. How good would that be? He didn't want to think about it. To consider the possibilities. It made him feel. . . . . . .. Like when she was with Carter. Except worse. Even worse. _Carter can have you_. The last time she drank. And he didn't know what to do. And he'd done nothing. He hadn't been there, and she found someone who was there. And .. .. . .and he'd drunk and screwed himself numb. Or tried to anyway. And now, what? If he left, walked away from her, there wouldn't be another guy. . .for a drunken. . . . . .. . . . There'd be someone else. Another man. Another Carter. Another relationship. Someone else would love her. Be with her. All the time. Every day. Every night. And he'd be adrift again. Looking for something that he wasn't going to find anywhere else. With anyone else. _Is that what you want? Is that what you fucking want?_ He looked around the bar. Five men including him, pounding down drinks, sat at the bar, miserable in their lives. . . . and two women. Women who for a price or enough to drink would do whatever you wanted. _Abby. Sweet Jesus, Abby._

He drank a little slower then. It was getting harder to navigate the glass to his lips correctly. It didn't burn going down anymore...his throat was numb. . . how did she. . . .drink . .thissss stuffff? She was so small. The room was moving in funny ways. His eyes drifting from focus. It had been a long time since he'd had more than one or two beers. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to make it to the door. But he had the feeling it was time to try. He wasn't going to make it more than half way through this bottle. Not and survive anyway. He stood up swayed a little and found an arm soon wrapped around his waist. He looked down into the heavily made up face of one of the women. _If it flies, floats or fucks. .. .rent it. _

"Need some help?" she asked with a smile.

"Are you drunk?" he slurred.

"Not as drunk as you."

"Drunk enough to not care who you fuck?"

She laughed. "I'm free tonight if that's what you mean."

"I'm shit faced aren't I?"

"I'd say so."

"I still. . . ."

"What?"

Not drunk enough. "Can you help me get a taxi?"

"Sure honey, but taxis are more fun for two."

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Pounding woke Niko. What the hell? It was two in the morning.

He opened the door. Luka leaned against the frame. "I'm going to be sick," was all he could manage by way of a greeting. He made it to the bathroom, but just barely.

"What the hell, Luka?"

"I'm drunk." Luka said and flopped on the couch.

"I see that."

"I can't go home to Abby drunk. Verrrrrry bad idea."

"Why are you drunk?"

"Becaussse I tried to drink a bottle of vodka."

"Why would you do that?"

"SSSperiemmett."

"Stupid experiment."

"Yeah. ..hey call .. . .would you call Abbby for mee?"

"Why?"

"Make sure she's okay for me .. okay. . . . ssshee. . .I .. .. don't wanttt. . .Call herrr. Just be sure. . . she's. .. alright. . . "

"What about you? What is she doing to you?"

"Jussst calll kay?"

"Yeah . . yeah. Probably wake her up."

"Maybbee yessss maybe noooooo."

Niko went to the phone and dialed. She picked it up on the first ring.

"Luka?"

"No. .it's NiKo."

"Is he there? Is he with you? Is he okay?"

"He asked me to call you to be sure you're 'okay'."

"Can I talk to him?"

Niko glanced over. Luka's eyes were closed. He'd watched his brother retreat back inside himself, seemingly happy only with Joe. After all those years, finally having his brother back, and she took him away again. How many ways was she going to hurt him tonight? "No."

"Tell him I'm okay. Tell him .. . . .ask him to come home. . . ."

"I'm sorry. I can't do that. Good night, Abby." He glanced over. Luka was out cold.

Niko hung up.

He knew there'd be no answer, but he spoke anyway, jostled Luka's shoulder. "Come on, Luka. Tell me what the hell is going on with you." Luka grunted, but his eyes stayed firmly shut. Niko covered him with a blanket. Put out the light and went back to bed.

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The first morning light didn't wake him. Even the first rumblings of the family didn't bring him back to consciousness. But once breakfast was in full swing, the noises and the smells made him stir. And cringe.

Niko walked over to him, carrying a glass of water and aspirin which Luka gratefully - and groggily - accepted. The light. Shit. That hurt. He stumbled to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, get the taste of vodka out of his mouth. At least he didn't reek of it. That's what made it Abby's drink of choice he imagined.

Niko was waiting for him. "Coffee?"

"Yeah."

"So? You going to tell me?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"You come to my house in the middle of the night, drunk out of your mind, and pass out on my sofa, and you're not going to tell me why?"

"Nope."

"Why are you putting yourself through this?"

Luka just looked at him.

"You and Joe. You could have a good life here. Find a nice woman. You weren't married in the Church. Don't punish yourself."

The wheels of Luka's mind were grinding slowly. "You don't know her."

Niko shook his head.

"You don't know. .. . What we were like .. . .What we had.. . . . . . What I was like before. .her. .It's my fault .. . I was gone.. . too long too damn long." If only he'd come home even one week earlier. . . . .

"Gone too long for what?"

"I've got to go." Luka stood up too fast and found himself back on the couch. He regrouped, and made it upright, and headed for the door. Niko followed him, not wanting to give up.

"Get Joe, bring him here. You can stay as long as you need. You don't have to do this, Luka."

"Yes, I do."

"If you won't think about yourself, think about your son."

Luka spun around at that. Too fast. He grabbed his head and winced. "What?"

"Don't do this to him."

"What are you talking about?"

"He deserves a good mother."

Luka froze. "What did you just say?"

"Luka. . . ."

_Maybe some people aren't meant to be mothers._ "He has a good mother. Don't you . . .. Don't you ever. . ." His controlled fury was palpable.

Niko put his hands up in supplication, backtracking. "Sorry. . .sorry .. I just meant . . . . . ."

"I've got to go."

"Don't go like this. . ."

"We'll talk later. I've got to see Abby."


	36. It's Never What You Think

A/N: Thank you to all who take the time to review after reading. It is much appreciated. Special thanks to those who review consistently, it makes me feel like I'm writing for people I know : )

It's Never What You Think

Abby felt like hell. She looked like hell too. Hair tossed up in a clip, still in the sweats she'd thrown on when she'd gone to talk to Luka. She'd dozed a couple of hours on the sofa in the early morning only to have Joe awaken her way too early. She'd fed him, made some coffee and sat with him on the floor doing puzzles and making his toy airplane fly around him when the doorbell rang. Luka. He must have forgotten his keys. She sprang for the door and threw it open. A pretty woman with dark, curly hair and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen stood in front of her, great figure, tall. . ._Unless you don't want me to meet your family because I'm hideously ugly by Croatian standards_. . .

She looked surprised for a second before she caught herself. "You must be Abby." The accent was thick, the words carefully chosen.

Abby found her voice. "Yes.. . can I help you?" _Who the hell?_

"I'm Tatiana. Pleased to finally meet you." She put out her hand, clearly expecting Abby to know who she was.

Abby stared at the hand, took it, shook it lamely. "I'm sorry. . . really sorry. . . I don't know. . . "

"Luka didn't tell you about me?" A look of surprise crossed her face when Abby shook her head, but it was quickly followed by a look of understanding and a small smile of satisfaction to know he had not. "Do you mind if I come in?"

Abby realized she'd been blocking the door. . . She opened it numbly, made space for Tatiana to pass her. _What the hell? Tell her what? Don't assume. Don't anticipate the worst. Maybe she's family. A cousin. . . _

Tatiana was clearly familiar with the apartment, tossed her keys and purse on the table and made a beeline for Joe. She started speaking in Croatian to him. . . cooing. . . familiar. Joe smiled and toddled over to her

"TatiTatiTati"

Tatiana smiled, held out her arms and swept Joe up. "I knew Luka was worried. So I came to check on Joe."

_That's my son. Put my son down_. But Joe clearly didn't mind. He already had fistfuls of Tatiana's thick hair. _Keep a grip_. "Where's Luka? The minute the words were out, Abby regretted them. The admission that she did not know, and that it was possible Tatiana did.

"Still sleeping I imagine."

Sick, she was going to be sick. . . _Is this where'd he gone last night? Calling his brother from Tatiana's to call her? Out of what? Guilt?. . .Fear for Joe?. . ._Misery did not begin to describe her worst nightmare unfolding unbearably in front of her eyes_. Was it possible? While she was torturing herself, had he been .. . had he been paying her back? Getting even? Or had it been going on. . .for . . .? How far had he let this woman into his life? Joe's life?_ She didn't know what to do or say when she heard the key in the lock. She was slipping. She could feel it. _Tools . . .tools. . .what was she supposed to do?. .. To think?. . . To tell herself? . ._ . She couldn't remember. . .

Luka stepped in, and Abby turned to face him. Her face a picture that told the story, full of all the agony she felt. He looked from Abby to Tatiana, bouncing Joe on her hip and talking to him in Croatian as he laughed.

"Look it's Tata." Tatiana spoke in Croatian to Joe and smiled brightly at Luka. If she'd been pretty before he'd come in the room, she was beautiful now, aglow, familiarity in every gesture and word.

Face full of confusion, he walked to Abby and put a hand on her shoulder. She pulled away. There were tears in her eyes. _What the hell was going on? _

"Tatiana? What are you doing here?" He spoke in English.

"Ana called me. Said you were worried about Joe. I thought I should stop in to see since you. . .weren't . . . awake. Be sure everything was okay." She answered in Croatian.

"Ana misunderstood. I wasn't worried about Joe." He continued to speak in English as he crossed the room and put out his hands to Joe, who propelled himself towards his father. Without missing a beat, he turned and walked back to Abby, leaning his body and thus Joe, towards her. She put out her hands and took him, burying her face in Joe's neck, lacing him with small kisses.

"He was with Abby. He was fine. I was worried about Abby, not Joe." He didn't take his eyes from Tatiana's, but there wasn't the warmth she'd hoped for. They were dark, cold. It caught her off guard.

"I. . . I'm sorry I did not understand. I just wanted to help." This time she answered him in the language he had chosen.

"I know, and you've been a lot of help. I'm grateful. But we've got it now." _I choose you as the person I will love and honor for the rest of my life._

"I see. I'll go then" she said stiffly and as she passed. "Nice to have met you, Abby."

Luka walked ahead and opened the door, and she was gone.

He put his hand on the door after he closed it, and shook his head for a moment. He felt like hell. The combination of aspirin, water and coffee had not quite done the trick to remove the pounding in his head or the queasy feeling in his stomach. He had a feeling this conversation was not going to help.

Abby sat in the rocker with Joe on her lap. He had settled into his mother and the rocking. He'd woken too early and already his eyes were heavy. In another moment, they closed. When Abby saw he had fallen asleep, she looked Luka in the eyes. Finally. "Who is she?"

"Tatiana?"

Abby gave him a 'who the hell do you think?' look.

"My sister-in-law .. .Danijela's sister."

"Danijela's sister_?" Holy shit_. "She seems to know Joe pretty well. . . and you. . . "

"She's been helping out with Joe while I was working on settling my father's affairs. Don't look at me like that. I needed help."

"Niko? Ana?"

"Working."

"Tatiana doesn't work?"

"She teaches kindergarten. She had time off."

"She teaches kindergarten." _But of course. How perfect._

"What?"

"And did you spend time with her while you were taking care of your father?"

"What? Some. . . she brought dinners I guess and visited him. . . Why?"

"Just wondering. . . "

"What? She's my sister, Abby. . . for God's sake. . . You don't think...?"

Abby looked away muttered under her breath. "Sister-in-law. . . not quite sure she still thinks of you as a brother." _Stop it Abby. Talk to him. _ "I'm putting Joe down. Give me a minute."

He felt his fury rise. He wanted to shout, but he didn't want to wake Joe. The pacing started again. As soon as she returned, he spoke striving to exercise every ounce of control he could muster. "I'm not the one that had an affair. I didn't sleep with her. . . or anyone else. . . "

Abby ignored the accusation; she had one of her own. "She acts like she's Joe's mother."

"Well she's not. It's not like he's never had a nanny."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's supposed to mean, don't make it something it wasn't."

"Well, don't you make what happened with me something it wasn't either."

He was harsh, his hands flashing in the air. "You knew him. . . you worked with him. . . You . . ." He winced. A wave of nausea coursed through him. His head pounded. He couldn't bring himself to say it.

"It had nothing to do with _him."_ They were facing off across the room. It might have been across the country.

"Nothing to do with him? Oh come _on_. . . . . I went out and got as drunk as I could last night. I wanted to see. . . wanted to know. . . if I could get drunk enough to want someone else. . . It didn't work."

"Did you want it to?"

"No, of course not."

Arms folded on her chest. Holding herself together. "Congratulations, Luka. You're not an alcoholic. Drinking doesn't make you do or say things you really don't want to do. It doesn't make you reckless and stupid and selfish and bring out the absolute worst in you. That's great, but that's _you_. It isn't _me_. It's why you can drink, and why I can't. I didn't like him. I didn't spend time with him. I avoided him at work when I could. I couldn't stand to see him . . . to talk to him . . . _after._ . ." _He tried to touch me. He called me honey. It made me feel even. . . more . . . dirty. . . as if it wasn't bad enough. . . being . . .naked, and in his bed. . .and not . . . knowing. . .how . . . and I almost hurt our son . . . because I needed you. . . I needed to be clean again. . . fixed. . . whole. . . because there wasn't enough of me left. . . . . to . . ..fix. .. it .. but then I remembered what I'd done, and I wasn't good enough. . . any more. . .to go to you . . . to be with you . . ._"It made me _sick_ . . . literally sick to see you with him. He was an arrogant jerk, and he tried to make medicine about checking boxes instead of looking at the patients. He turned being chief into a power struggle instead of . . . " She broke off. Her breathing fast. Looking at him. Helpless for a moment_. He was nothing you are. But he wanted me. I knew he wanted me. And he bought me a drink. I should have walked out. And I didn't. I wanted the drink. Because I'm a drunk. And you deserve so much more than that. Than me. Stop. He's your husband. You chose each other. You're sober. You can be well. You deserve this. Fight. Fight for this. For him. It's your life. Fight for it. Help him understand. Tell him. Show him. He's hurt. He needs to know. Tell him.__Don't give up_. "It was _not_ about _him_. I was so drunk I don't even know how I got there . . . I don't even remember . . . everything .. . I blacked out . . . I blacked out. . . It was something. . . ._else ._ . ."

She took a deep breath. She had to try. She had to. Knowing the answer before she asked, as gently as she could. "Haven't you ever done something . .that you can't take back . .. no matter how much you want .. and then, after, you can't believe that you actually did it?" Eyes intent, staring into his, knowing there was risk in where she was going. They'd never spoke of it. Not once. Not ever. "That it seemed like someone or something took over your body for just a little while and did something horrible and then left you with the mess. . . and the shame. . . and the guilt. _Haven't you, Luka_?"

He stared at her. . . she wasn't. . . she wasn't going there. . . but she was. "You know that I have. You saw me do it." Their first date. The mugger.

It was his turn to fold his arms, protect himself.

"Yes. . . I _know_ you have. . . In that moment, I recognized you. I knew how you felt because I'd been there myself. I _knew_, Luka. I got it. I knew that what happened that night had nothing to do with who you really were. . who you are. And I never thought I'd have one of those moments again, but I did. . _I did_. . . I was too messed up myself to help you right then. But I understood. Can't you_? Please just try._ . . "

Realization slow to dawn. "I always wondered how you could . . . want to be . . . with me. . . after that. . . " Her knock at the door. Standing in front of him. Giving herself. To him. Without fear. After what she'd seen. What he'd done. She'd looked him in the eyes and made him feel like a human being again. Abby. _ How_? _How_ could she give herself to someone else. . .after. . .after. . . _everything_? All they'd been through. All that they were to each other. All that they had. After so long_. How?_

"I knew, Luka. I knew it wasn't really you. . . .I saw you. _I knew_. .. .don't you _know_ me .. _Can't you see me? . . .Please . . . "_

He sat down heavily, put his head in his hands. Ran his fingers through his hair. "It's so hard, Abby. It's so damn hard. It just hurts. . . it hurts too much. . ."

She came to kneel in front of him. "I know. I'm sorry. _I'm so sorry_. You may not believe this, but I don't think you could hate it any more than I do. I do. _I hate it_. But what happened had nothing to do with normal feeling or. . any feeling or. . . anything. . . normal. . . It had everything do with what happens to me when I drink. Or maybe really _why_ I drink, Luka. Because I feel like dirt, because I hate myself, and I feel sorry for myself, and I blame everyone and anyone for my problems. I lie to myself and whoever will listen. I let myself resent you. I told myself that you didn't want me, didn't _really_ love me. That just maybe you were never coming home. . . and that pretty much what always happens to _poor little Abby_ was happening again. . .that you would leave me like everyone always does. . that it was all a lie. . . a joke. . . a _cruel. . .joke_. . . and that. . . and that. . . . you were happier here. . . without me. . . that you were. . . sorry . . . that you . . . that you . . . mar. . . " She couldn't finish . . .Couldn't form the words. Eyes full, bearing her soul, splayed open, terrified because in that moment it felt like it really was all up to him, and however much work she'd done, she wasn't sure she'd have the strength to do this without him.

"Abby." He reached out, took her face between his hands, brushed her tears with his thumbs. Made her look at him. See him. Made himself see her. He was torn. Part of him was dying to take away her pain. Tell her not to cry. Dry her tears. And part of him was drinking it in. Like rain in a desert. Desperate to hear, to _know_, that it was their pain and not just his own. "That's not true, Abby. I was happy here because I was happy with you. My life was good, and I wanted to share it with my family and make things right with them. Without you. . . it doesn't matter where I am. . .I've been miserable these past weeks without you . _. . why_. . . why didn't you tell me that's how you felt?"

Her hands were on his arms. Hanging on. "Because I just wanted you to _want_ to come home. . . I didn't want to tell you to come home . . . not again.. .I didn't want . . . your pity . . . I didn't want you to come home . . . because you _had_ to . . .because I couldn't cut it . . . I wanted you to miss me the way I missed you. . . _love_ me the way that I love you. . . "

Luka swallowed hard. He got it. She'd opened herself to him. Everything. Raw. Maybe for the first time. Maybe for the first time ever. To anyone. He knew what it was to hide. To have something you were so ashamed of that you hid it away. From everyone. What it would mean to tell someone. Abby. Trusting him. Loving him. It was up to him now. "Don't you _know_? Don't you _know_, Abby?" He couldn't believe that she didn't. But she didn't. He slid off the couch onto the floor in front of her to hold her. Join her. Eye to eye. "I thought that the time wouldn't matter. . . that if you loved me like I love you. . . _nothing_ would come between us. . . time. . . distance. . . The thought of you with someone else . . . .being with someone else. . .it _kills_ me. . . because. . . because there couldn't be anyone else for me. . ."

"There was no one else. . . no one, Luka. . . not for me. . . Whatever else you think of me. . . _don't_ think that. . .The minute I saw you I knew. . . I _knew_. . .It hadn't been a lie. . .Us. . . That it had been true. . . And then . . . I knew. . . what I'd done. . . and I just . . . I couldn't. . . stand. . . it . . . Couldn't face . .. .it . .. . .I felt. .. . like I'd ruined us. .. .. that I'd ruined myself. .. .. .. .. . that you. .. that you . .. could _never _still love me. . . that. . . I could never be with you. . . again . . . I'm so ashamed. . ." She was still crying, forcing the words out. Desperate. He had to know. No matter what happened. He had to know that it was _him_. It had always been _him_.

He took her in his arms, stroked her hair, her back, felt her body begin to settle into his, to stop trembling. The desire for anything but bringing comfort. . . gone. . . sated. He saw her. Who she was. He knew. He remembered. The mother of his child. The love of his life. "I was a fool to be gone so long. . . I took you for granted. . . us for granted. But I never stopped loving you_. Never_. I couldn't. I won't." Then softer and softer like a promise to himself and to her. "_I won't. I won't_."

_I wonder. . .if I. . .If I were hurt like that ?_

_If you'd keep on walking?_

_If anyone would know who I was. . . _

_I would._


	37. Whatever it Takes

A/N: Having pondered the positives and negatives of the last set of reviews, I reached some conclusions. First, it clarified for me my intent. I don't feel like I am writing a novel. My goal is to invoke specific characters as played by specific actors, and to evoke emotion in the reader. I do break rules, but with the intent to convey certain things about the way I feel the actors play their characters - the pregnant pause, the cadence of speech, the stop and start of something difficult. There are emotions, moments, thoughts, words I want to highlight. Those paragraphs were tortuous and with reason. That was exactly what I wanted to convey. Having said that, I will bring more awareness to my choices so that, I hope, I effectively use my misuses. . . so to speak. Because my true intent is for the reader to see the scene played in their head - as I see it played in my own as I write.

Whatever It Takes

This was it. He was either going to keep all the promises he had ever made her, or break them. All of them. "I've been a jerk."

She smiled at him. "No."

"I'm sorry about last night. I hurt you. I didn't mean to. . ."

She shook her head. "You didn't. . ."

The words came out raspy, whispered. "Did he. . .did he. . .hurt you?"

Abby looked at him with eyes full of sorrow. "I hurt myself."

"He shouldn't have. . ."

"No, he shouldn't have."

"I know you're hurting too. I just. . .I just. . .lost it . . . I thought I could handle it. . .but. . .it would be easier if I didn't love you so much."

"I feel the same way."

"It's hard for me to know. . . what happened and to know . . .how much I let you down."

"You didn't. I let myself down."

"So, what do we do now?"

"Remember what I told you about part of why I wanted to come here . . . to Croatia?"

Luka nodded.

"Because I felt. . .I realized that there is this whole part of who you are that I know nothing about, that I didn't. . .couldn't really understand why you had to stay here so long, and I've decided that I want to. I want to know you. All of you. Even the parts that haven't included me. So, maybe, if you think about . . . learning about my. . .about alcoholism. Understanding what alcohol does to me and why I drink . . . used to drink. We. . .we really read each other wrong. . .and. . .I think. . .I think we can make it better. . .even better than it was. . .if it's what we want. . .if we both try. . ."

Luka nodded again and leaned into her. She stroked his hair. "We have a lot to fight for Luka. . . each other. . .and. . ."

"Mama. . .Tata. . ."

They looked at each other. "Joe"

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They spent the next day wandering the city. He was at home. She could see it. Comfortable in a way she'd never seen him in Chicago. It was a beautiful place. It felt like everyone in the neighborhood knew Luka and Joe and were politely curious about his long MIA wife. The women in particular gave her long looks of assessment. Or was it envy? But they were kind and friendly, and most made efforts to practice their English with her. She had never really had a home, other than Luka and Joe. Luka had. And he'd had it again these past few months. After dinner, Abby put Joe down and found Luka sitting on the sofa, lost in thought. Abby watched him. It _was_ different between them. How could it not be? _God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can't change. _Maybe it always would be. . . her eyes filled. . . of all the mistakes to make. _The courage to change the things I can_. She'd made the one most likely to blow up her life. . . she'd always had the knack for that. _And the wisdom to know the difference._ She couldn't go back. But she could try to move them forward. . .if it was right. He was a million miles away. Away from her. Go. . .go find him. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder, felt his hand reach for her arm.

"Luka. . .If I could. . .I would change what happened. . .take it back. . ."

"I know."

"Where are you?"

"I was just. . . just thinking. . .how we got. . .here. After I left Croatia, I wasn't with anyone for a long time. . .Then there . . .was. . .you. But I couldn't move forward not really, and I couldn't go back either, I tried that too. So. . .I was stuck - for a long time. Then. . .you came to my door one night when I thought nothing was ever going to work out for me again, and that maybe I deserved that. . .and you stood in front of me, Abby and you. . .you let me in. . .and it. . . . . .none of it mattered any more. I was done with _all_ of it. . ._everything_ in the past. I could move forward, but I couldn't go back. Then. . .when my father got sick. . .and we. . .were. . .settled. . .I just. . .I just. . .I wanted. . .I wanted him to know me again, and I wanted to know him again. I wanted to make it right . . .and I made . . .I made everything wrong. I don't think I've gotten anything right . . . except you . . .you and Joe - you're the only right things . . . and I . . .I made it wrong. . . "

"No, you didn't. It's not wrong, Luka. Not unless we let it be. I love you. I do. . .We can make it right. . ."

"Can we?"

"Yes . . .I _know_ we can . . .I'm not good. . .I _haven't_ been good at sticking with things, Luka. Not. . .not when it gets too hard . . .too scary. I'm fighting for you. . .for us. . .as long as it takes. Unless. . ." You have to. You have to love him enough.

"Unless?"

"Unless you tell me . . . to go. If that's what you need, I'll do that. . .I'll do that for you. . .I _know_. . .I know you want to get past this, but if you can't. If you ask me to leave you, if that's what you need. I'll go." If there was another plan for her life, she'd have to accept that. _Please don't tell me to go._

"Don't go. I want it to work. I do."

There. She could breathe again. "Okay. Then I'll fight . .as long as you want me to." He finally turned to look at her. She cocked her head, smiled at him. "I'll even. . .I'll. . .keep _track_ of. . . . your socks. . . . . . . . . " There it was. She could still make him smile. It wasn't wrong. She could feel it.

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Luka sat and listened. Abby had told him he didn't need to talk, to "share" his first time. Or really any time. He could just go and listen. Hear stories of lives torn apart by liquid fire. Abuse, neglect, gambling, infidelity, loss of work, you name it. When they drank. And when they were sober it was different. All different. Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. He wasn't sure if it was reassuring or terrifying - probably both. In some ways they were very lucky. She hadn't killed anyone. She could have. She had driven. She had worked. She'd had sex. One time. With someone that wasn't him. And he would have to get over it. If anyone should be able to understand, he should. It was utterly terrifying to realize that her whole life, his life, Joe's life . . .their future hung on whether she was strong enough not to open another bottle. . . ever again. He really had not understood. Had never understood. But he was beginning to, and he was determined to help her. Whatever it took. One "mistake" was nothing in the grand scheme of the nightmare that could become their life. That was clear. _If you're not helping her, you're hurting her. But on our honeymoon, you'll be serving me martinis wearing nothing but this. _ Had he been insane? Blind? Stupid? Or all three? He'd just have to learn how to help her. This was the part they could do together. He knew it.

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They sat cuddled on the sofa after Joe was asleep. A few days had gone by. Better days. Luka had seen Abby reading her AA Big Book and asked to look at it. While a neighbor watched Joe, he'd gone to an open meeting with her and translated. He'd started watching how she was with his touch. Paying attention. She seemed quite content for him to take her hand or put his arms around her, kiss her lightly, but any gestures past that .. .she'd tense. It reminded him. . .taking care of women during the war. . .after the war. . .and in Africa, he'd go to touch them, to examine them, help them, and they'd just freeze, withdraw, pull into themselves. Some had been raped. For others it had been a "voluntary" violation. Sex in exchange for security or food or protection, something. Whatever. . .had happened. . . however it had happened, she'd been violated. She'd traded her body for something that night. Maybe for something he'd never understand. But he knew, he knew that if he'd come home when she asked, it would have never happened. He'd blundered in and handled it very badly. He wouldn't . . .couldn't make another mistake with her. But where did it leave them? _There must be stand-by flights, you could get a red eye, fly home tonight._ How had he missed the desperation in her voice? He had let her down, and they had both paid a price for that. If it came down to it, maybe she had paid the bigger one. She'd relapsed. It was a relapse, not an affair. That was what could do them in. Her drinking. They would live or die by her sobriety.

"Luka? I was thinking .. . Do you think Ana and Niko would take Joe for the weekend? You know, so we can maybe go somewhere, just the two of us. . .get away. . .be alone?" That part had always been so easy for them. Ironic that, somehow, this time they had begun to reconnect emotionally before they could physically. It was time though. Time to stop being afraid that it wouldn't be the same, that she would still feel tainted for him. Time to have some faith.

"I'll ask. You. . .you want to be alone?"

"Yes. . .I want to be alone. . .with you." She took a deep breath. They had to find a way through this and soon. It was getting old.

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Luka hesitated before picking up the phone. "Niko? It's Luka. Listen. . .I know you. . .I know you're not happy about things. But I need a favor."

"What?"

"Abby and I, we need to get away for the weekend. I was wondering, if you, if you would watch Joe for us?"

He heard a sigh.

"She's my wife, Niko. I love her. Do this for me?"

"I'll have to convince Ana. She's not very happy about the way you treated Tatiana."

"The way I treated Tatiana? What did I do to Tatiana?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"She was hoping . . ."

"Hoping what?"

"The two of you. . ."

"The two of us? She's my sister for. . .You've got to be kidding?"

"She hasn't been your sister for a long time, Luka. . ."

"Niko. . .look. . .I'll talk to her. . .I didn't know she thought. . .it was something it wasn't, but _please_. . ..convince Ana. . .take Joe. . .I don't want to leave him with someone who's not family for a couple of days. Please. I have to do this. I want this. Help me out."

"Okay, okay, I'll talk to her. I'll talk to her."

"Thanks."

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They'd made the drive, arrived, settled in . . . all with barely a word to each other. She was nervous. He was nervous. Abby bit her lip. This was never going to work. Maybe it was time to push the reset button, start over.

"You want to go out to dinner? I was thinking that place on the corner." Abby looked at him questioning, hopeful.

"Sure."

"Okay, go ahead. I'll meet you there."

"Why?"

"Just. . .you'll see."

Luka shrugged and followed orders.

He sat at their table, tapping his spoon nervously. What was taking her so long?

"Excuse me? This seat taken?" She was dressed in a long skirt, boots and a form-fitting sweater her long hair glimmered in the low lighting of the restaurant.

He raised his eyebrows reflexively as he stood. "What?"

"My name is Abby Lockhart. Nice to meet you." She put out her hand, and looked at him pointedly. It came under her breath. "Play along."

Luka eyed her. . ._okay_. . ."Luka Kovac." He walked over to pull out her chair. "Please, join me. It seems my date ditched me tonight anyway."

"Really? Not very nice of her . . ."

"No. . .but I see I've been rescued."

"So Luka Kovac. . .Are you from around here?"

He shook his head at her, took a sip of his water. . .Okay. She wanted a game. He'd play. "Originally. . . but I live in Chicago now. . ."

"Do you like Chicago?"

"It has its good points."

"What brings you here?"

"My father died."

"I'm sorry." She looked at him intently. "Tell me about him. . ."

She was earnest now, looking at him with those chocolate eyes, making him melt. So for the first time, Luka did. He told Abby about his father. What he was like in his last months, uncomplaining, brave, telling stories, all kinds of stories of his life and his parents' lives. How Luka and Niko had taken notes and recorded them for their children. How Josip had been both disciplinarian and guide when Luka was young. The time they spent at the ocean as a family, learning to swim. . . and by the grace of a friend with a boat, to sail. How he had loved to watch his father paint. To see the colors ebb and flow and what emerged. To watch his parents dance at parties. To hear his father sing.

She sat and listened, mesmerized. He'd never told her. . .but then again, she'd never asked. She hardly wanted to pause to order dinner lest the spell be broken. And when he ordered sparkling water instead of beer or wine, she could have kissed him.

When he had finished his story, he said, "So that's why I'm in Croatia. Why are you here?"

"I'm here . . .I'm here because. . . because for my entire life. .I've been one of those people who just gives up when something seems too hard. . . . . .or too scary. . . . . .but. . .I've decided I don't want to do that anymore, and so I'm here. . .to fight for what I want."

"What do you want. . .?"

"The good things." She said it wistfully.

"And they're here in Croatia?"

"Most of them. Don't you think so?"

"I think they're anywhere you look for them."

"Maybe that's true. You see I never. . ._really_ believed that people could change. . . . . .but. . . . . .I'm starting to think they can. . . . . .if they can do the work. . ."

"I don't know. Change can be scary. It can be hard when someone you love changes. . . . . .even for the better."

"You think? Why?"

"Because if they aren't who they were when they fell in love with you. . . . . .then. . . . . .what?" Luka glanced down before meeting her eyes. Nervous.

"Maybe it just makes them love you better. . .the good kind of change I mean." She met his gaze. Sure.

"You think?"

"It's been my experience. . ."

"That's good to know."

There was nervous silence. Do it. "Do you feel like dancing?"

"Dancing?" He was surprised.

"I saw that club across the street."

"You want to go to a club?" Eyebrows up. " There'll be lots of. . ."

"Booze?"

"Yes." He still wasn't sure what the rules were in this new game.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

He stood up and moved to pull out her chair. "Well then. . .after you. . ."

She wanted to touch him without pressure. . .be in his arms with no expectation. . .see how it felt. It felt. . .like coming home. . . like the safest place in the world. . .like the place she never wanted to leave………. like they had way too many clothes on. She smiled.

They were slow dancing to fast music, his fingers laced low on her back, her arms linked around his neck. It was impossible not to think about the last time they'd danced. Their wedding day. When intimacy, when everything was easy. But the gestures, the touch, the whispers of lovers, those were habits too, firmly ingrained in their souls, and in their proximity, barriers dropped, they returned.

She looked up at him. "You ready to leave?"

"Sure. . .Walk by the lake?"

"That sounds. . .really. . .cold. I was thinking. . .of something more. . .physical. . ."

His eyebrows shot up. "I don't think we're going to find any foosball…………………"

"Who said anything about foosball?" She grabbed his hand.

"Abby Lockhart. . .what are you suggesting?"

She smiled. "About my name. . ."

"Yes. . .is that not your real name? Because I knew this Abby Lockhart once. . ." He shook his finger at her.

She hit him with her free hand. "It's been my name. . . but I'm actually. . . I'm thinking of changing it. . ."

"You are?" He was truly puzzled.

"Well. . .you know. . .sometimes change is good and Lockhart. . .has a lot of baggage attached to it. . ."

"Does it?"

"Oh yeah. . .and I'm. . .you know cleaning out the attic. . .and the basement and maybe even the garage. . ."

"Mmmm"

"So I was thinking. . .you know coincidentally, of course. . .and, you know, only if you think it's a good idea. . .that. . .Kovac . . .has a nice ring to it . . ."

"Kovac?" He stopped up short, which stopped her up short, and she was propelled around to face him.

"Yes. . .Kovac. . .Abby………Kovac. . .New woman. . ."

He shook his head. "It's a beautiful name. . .Abby Kovac. I like it." And he pulled her in to kiss her gently, more a question, than a statement.

She pulled back just a little. "Take me home, Luka. . ."

He said not a word, but put his arm around her and picked up the pace.

"I'll build a fire."

While Luka worked, Abby stretched out on the sofa watching.

"I'll just light some candles. . ." He was as interested in stalling as in setting ambiance, and Abby knew it. Finally, he reached to turn out the lamp.

"Don't"

"What?"

"Would you. . .would you leave the light on. I want to see you. I want to be able to see you."

He nodded. Well, she was willing. . .but. . .he'd have to take it slow. He went and sat under her feet, picking them up. Sliding one boot off, then the other. . ."You're a bit over dressed."

She smiled. "It was cold. . .Maybe you could. . .help me with that. . .?"

"I could." First the boots, then the socks, and the silky long underwear which he slipped off and shook his head at, and tossed over his shoulder, making her laugh. This would require patience. Hmmm. He looked at her toes. Toes. . .That would be a pretty safe way to begin. . .start there. . .and work his. . .way up so to speak. . .So he did. . .slowly. . .mouth, tongue, hands, fingers. . .slowly. . .always waiting to feel her tense. . .or relax. . .moan. . .shudder. Her. He would think about her and only her. Them. There was no one else, no one in the world. He'd make himself forget. He'd make _her_ forget. . .forget everything, everyone. . .even her own name. But _his_ name . . . that he heard. . .repeated. . .gasped. . .moaned. . .giggled. . .In time, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his neck. He smelled good. So good. He placed her gently on the bed, removed his own clothes as she watched. He slid in next to her and slipped off what little remained of her clothing. Touching, nothing between them now, feeling, tasting. He felt so good, so incredibly. . .right. It has been so long since they had. . . . . . He was gentle and slow. . . . . .tantalizingly slow. She wanted it, wanted him, she did. It had always been easy for him to lose himself in her . . . and that had not changed. As long as he could look into her eyes. See that she wanted him. . .only him. . .loved him. . . . . .only him. She couldn't take her eyes off him. Off his eyes. The eyes that had seen her through so much. Loss and triumph, birth and death, the heights of joy and the depths of misery. Always those eyes. They were the last things she wanted to see on this earth. His eyes. It was him. It was right. It was hard to imagine anything being more right. They moved together slowly, it was hypnotic. Trancelike. She shifted under him, moved her body, signaling she wanted to move. They could always read each other, and this was no different. She looked down on him now. Her husband. Holding hands, moving as one. . .no space. . .no distance. . .only ripples of pleasure. Every nerve firing. His name. Whispers in Croatian. Nothing in the world but the two of them. . . . . .and the most intense feeling rippling through them again and again. She shuddered with pure pleasure. . .His name. . .His eyes. . . . . .

Luka lay on the bed. . .his wife draped over him. . .the feel of her skin on his more luxurious than satin or silk. . .the sheet wrapped haphazardly around her waist and the tops of her thighs, twisted, tangled. He stroked her hair. . . and thought. . . .

Abby lay, languid, listening to his heart beat. It had started at a gallop, slowed to a trot and now was plodding quite contently under her ear. . .Maybe you couldn't un-ring a bell but you sure as hell could drown it out with a whole damn brass band.

She smiled, and he felt it. She lifted her head to look at him. "Penny for your thoughts."

"I was thinking . . . . . .I was thinking about Ames. . ."

Abby's forehead crinkled. What the. . .? "You've _got_ to be kidding me. . ."

Luka smiled. "I _was_. . .I was thinking how I didn't get what he needed to hear from me till I had a gun pointed a foot from my heart. . .and you know, maybe it was the same with you. Maybe I just wasn't going to get. . .what you need from me. . .any other way. . ."

"Luka. . ." She kissed his chest, pressed her face into him.

"But. . .Abby. . .if you ever. . .If I'm not getting it again. . .what you need or want. . .Could you do me a favor? Could you just pull a gun on me?"

She looked at him as if he were crazy for a split second, before he smiled a rueful smile at her, shrugged, and she shook her head. She took her finger and ran it over his lips. "I'll start packing heat."

His eyebrows went up. "I don't know what that means, but it sounds. . .interesting. . ."

Abby smiled and rested her head on his chest again, and Luka sighed, content. She was his.

Again.

And again.


	38. Umbrella

A/N: Thank you very much for those lovely reviews and encouragement. I was very touched. So, I have a confession to make. When I said 40 chapters, I lied. We don't even get out of Croatia till 42. Honestly, I don't know how much I'll have to say about Chicago. But considering the first thing I say in the first chapter is that this is a short piece, I think there is no truth in advertising about the duration of this saga ; ) Truth be told, I thought to deal with what happened would be messy and difficult for them, and I didn't want to simplify that. So they ride the see-saw these next chapters.

Umbrella

_Luka put his key in the lock and opened the door. Joe was crying. He quickly walked through their home calling for Abby and calling to Joe. He found him upstairs, in his crib, standing, face red with tears. How long had he been crying? Where was Abby? "Where's Mommy, Joe?"_

_He picked Joe up and took him downstairs to get him milk. Luka sat rocking him till he fell asleep. He heard the door open, and Abby came in. She was stumbling, struggling with her coat. _

_"Where have you been? You left Joe alone_. . . _He was crying .. . . "_

_"Where have I been? Where were you? You were supposed to be home."_

_"I got stuck at work. You just left?"_

_" I just . . .I just had to_. . . _get out_. . . _I couldn't handle it . . . "_

_"Couldn't handle what?"_

_"__**It**__** . . . it**__. . .I couldn't handle __**it**__. . . okay?"_

_"No . . .not okay. You've been drinking."_

_"Well, I guess I have."_

_"What else?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I mean, what else have you been doing?"_

_"Don't worry . . . . . . .I didn't even like him."_

Luka's eyes opened. His heart was pounding like a drum. His stomach sick. It was a dream. It was only a dream. But. . . it was . . . possible. The moonlight was shining in through the window, lighting her hair. He was completely struck by her beauty. It only intensified his pain. She was so peaceful, so still, her face, her features as if they'd been chiseled by a master artist. For him. The skin of her shoulder, upper back, arm, smooth and pale. . . perfect. Made for him. He was tucked around her, his hand on her hip, skin on skin. He rolled away. Covered his face with his hands, ran them through his hair, and he began to pray. He had found the prayers of his childhood returning to him since being back in Croatia, more these past few weeks than ever. When the sky started to lighten, he got out of bed.

Abby stirred, half asleep, she reached for him. He wasn't there. She sat bolt up right. The room was unfamiliar. She saw herself in the mirror across the room, hair askew, sheet pulled up over her naked body. Her stomach dropped, her heart began to pound. No. . . no. . .no. Her mind began to clear. Luka. . . . it couldn't have been a dream. She pulled on her robe, frantic to cover herself, and find him. She had to find him. The floor was freezing and her feet were bare. She took a deep breath, but her voice still trembled.

"Luka . . . Luka?"

"Here."

There he was, sitting in the front room of their suite, staring out the windows at the rosy sky.

"Luka?"

"There's coffee in kitchen."

"I don't want coffee. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. . . "

She sat on the sofa next to him, tucking her knees under herself, positioned towards him. "Something wrong?"

"No. . . no. . .I'm fine." He took a long drink from the thick white mug in his hands.

"Why are you up so early?'

"Couldn't sleep." He leaned forward to place the mug on the low table in front of him.

She gazed at him intently. "Why?"

He turned to look at her for the first time and shrugged.

Maybe last night. . . maybe it wasn't the same for him. She'd been so. . . happy. . . it had been wonderful for her, but maybe she wasn't the same for him anymore. Maybe she never would be. _Abby stop it. Don't assume. Ask_. "Luka, was last night. . . . . . was it not. . . was it not. . . . . . okay. . . for you?"

He smiled tenderly and shook his head, reaching out, he put his hand to her cheek. "It was . . .it was . . .great . . . "

"Then. . . what?" Her eyes were pleading with him.

"I just .. . . it just hit me, what they said at that meeting how each relapse can be . . . worse. And I'm trying. I'm really trying to understand and to help you.. . and to get beyond. . . it all. . . but I just. . . I just don't know. . . "

"If you could do it again. . . . . . "

"Yeah. . . If I could do it again. . . . . . and what that would mean. . . for you. . . for me. . . for Joe. . . . . . It's scary."

She nodded. "It is." She took a deep breath. It was her turn. She took his hand in hers, knotted their fingers. "I spent a lot of time in rehab thinking about us. About how much you've carried us these last couple of years. . . " Luka shook his head. "You have. You've carried me. You carried me when I first found out I was pregnant, and I wasn't sure what to do . . .what I wanted. . . or if I should even be a mother. . . and when Joe was in the NICU. . . and with Ames. . . and on our wedding day. . . You always believed in me and in us, and if you can't do that right now, maybe it's my turn. I can't _know_ that I'll never screw up again. But I can believe that if I follow the program, I won't, and I can do the work every day so I won't. I don't want to lose you or Joe. There's nothing more important to me than the two of you. You have to know that. It will help me if you can believe it too."

"I want to Abby. . . I want to."

"Maybe that's enough for today. That you want to. I'll hang onto that. My sponsor's been sober for almost 20 years. It's possible. I believe that can be me too. I have to."

Luka nodded. "One day at a time."

"That's what they tell me. I'm fighting for my life, Luka. For our life. I know that. I do."

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They walked around the lake, the clouds above them heavy with rain, bundled in warm coats and hand in hand.

Luka looked down at her, decided to ask. "You never struck me as a Higher Power kind of person."

"Maybe that was my problem. . . or one of them. I let you become my Higher Power."

"Me?"

"In a way. It goes back to you being the one with the faith and confidence in me, propping me up, encouraging me to do the 'right' thing. . .or take the risk. I just. . . I had you at work and at home. . . and. . . it wasn't fair. I got too comfortable. I wanted to spend time with you, and then with you and Joe. . . and. . . I stopped going to meetings. I stopped working. I forgot I needed to. Things were good. And then once you were gone. . . . . . I just, I went right into addict mode. . . even before I was drinking. . . my thinking. . . it got screwed up. . . so. . . fast. . . I was a mess before I opened that first bottle . . . And don't say you're sorry again. . . or I'll have to hurt you."

"Okay . . .okay. . . I don't think I've been anyone's Higher Power before."

"Well, don't go getting a swelled head or anything. I'm trying to replace you after all."

"With what?"

"That's the thing. Right now it's some sort of vague notion of love, but mostly for me today, for all practical purposes, it's the program, but finding a way to have faith, to find healing by connecting to a Higher Power. . . I'm still sort of searching. It's not easy."

"I can see that."

"You believe in God."

"Yes."

"I just. . . I was raised with the 'you are going to hell' sort of God that makes the idea of connecting to God really difficult."

"I don't know. I've thought about it. . . a lot. . . I was angry for a long time. Gave up my faith, then sort of reinvented it. Maybe almost dying does that to a person. I don't think God's waiting to punish us for breaking the rules."

"You don't?"

"No, I mean it's like with Joe. We have to give him rules, like don't stick your finger in the electrical socket, don't climb on the table, that kind of thing because if he breaks them, he'll get hurt. I've come to think that we punish ourselves. That how we feel when we've done something. . . is the punishment. That and what happens to our lives. I've always been miserable when I've 'broken the rules'."

"So then, what's God's job?"

Luka smiled. "To help us get back up when we fall down."

"That's very twelve step of you."

"Yes. . . well. . . I'm trying."

"I know you are." She looked up at him. "I love you for it."

He stopped and turned to face her. "Make me one promise."

"What?"

"Promise me . . .if I ever . . .if you feel like. . . I'm not there . .or that you're slipping. . . even just a little. . . promise you'll tell me . . .this time."

"That's one of the things I have to do. I have to be able to tell you how I feel, what I need, if I'm . . .losing it. I'm trying. I guess. . . I guess what I most need is for us to learn how to make decisions together. The big ones anyway. . . like how we take care of our families when things come up. . . when and for how long we have house guests. . . how and when we get married. . . you know those little details. . . we need to work them out together."

Luka nodded. "Together."

The clouds let loose and the rain began a steady beat down. He opened his coat and took her in under his arm, and they made their way back home.

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They lay in the warm water. He was leaning against her, her legs wrapped around him. The oversize tub had been the selling point for this particular venue. She'd known if all else failed, if she could just get him into a tub. . . .

"Europeans have this bath thing down don't they?" She ran her hands down his shoulders, over his chest.

"Mmmmm"

"So, I was thinking that we should take Ana and Niko out for dinner to thank them for watching Joe. And so I can get to know them."

"That would be. . . . . . nice. . . " He wasn't really sure how that was going to go. On the other hand, he didn't want to discourage her, or make her more nervous. They would have to deal with his family at some point.

"And maybe. . . maybe we should invite Tatiana? Since she helped you so much." It was time to stop making assumptions and start facing the people in Luka's life. His life in Croatia. Like it or not.

"Tatiana? You want to invite Tatiana?"

"Is there a reason why we shouldn't?"

"I didn't think you liked her."

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. I don't know her. But if she helped you and Joe, if she has a place in your life here, I'd like to know her."

He craned his neck to look at her. "A place in my life here?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know I had a life here."

"I think you do. I can see it, Luka. I could hear it when we were apart. You do have a life here. It's a beautiful country. You have a lot of memories here. People you love."

"Our life is in Chicago."

"I know. But it can be here too." _No more fear._

"Can it?"

"Do you want it to be?" _There's nothing to fear_.

"I don't know. . . "

"Then maybe we can figure that out together. I was thinking, maybe you and your brother shouldn't sell your father's apartment. You could rent it to tourists, and we could come and stay. . spend some time. . . vacations. . . if you want." _But fear_.

"You'd do that?"

"If you need it to be part of your life, then it can be part of mine. . .of Joe's. Maybe it should be. We can think about it." _We_.

"I never. . . . . . let myself. . . "

"Well, maybe you should. . . we should. . . we can decide together. . . "_Us_.

He took his hands and ran them down her legs, he turned his head to face her, reached a hand behind her head. "Thank you."

She smiled as his mouth found hers.


	39. Ghosts

,A/N: I guess we will have more ER to look forward to this season and Zabel's version of events. As I've already roughed out three Chicago chapters, I'm not sure whether I'll weave back into Zabel's story or not (assuming he fixes them properly). I guess only time will tell. One way or another I will finish this story. Finally!

Ghosts

Luka was nervous. Better just do it. "Hey, Niko. How's Joe?"

"He's great. His cousins love him. You're having a good time, aren't you, Joe? Tell Tata . . ."

"We appreciate it. We really do. And to show you . . . Abby and I would like to take you and Ana out to dinner tonight when we get back. Would you come?"

There was silence.

"Niko?"

"Yes. . .of course we'll come."

"She wasn't herself. Once you know her. . ."

"You're important to us, Luka, you and Joe. So that makes her important eh?"

"Thanks."

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"Tatiana? It's Luka."

"Luka. . .hello."

"I. . .I wanted to apologize for the other morning. . .if I was. . .rude."

"No. . .no it was my fault. I just wanted. . .to help. . .I was. . .worried about Joe. . .so was Ana."

"I know. We're having dinner with Ana and Niko tonight, and Abby and I wondered if you. . . . . .might want to join us. . .so we could thank you for your help. . .with Joe. . ." That was awkward. Still if he didn't ask, Abby would want to know why, and since she would think there was a why, when there wasn't really a why. . .or not the why she would think. . .any way. . .lesser of two evils.

"I don't know. . ."

"Think about it. Listen if I. . .if I did or said something. . .that gave. . .you the wrong. . .impression. . ." He cringed.

"You didn't."

"Well, if I did. . .I'm sorry. . .I never meant. . ."

"It's fine, Luka. I'll come. See you tonight." If she didn't see him now, she'd never be able to face him. She would go, and she would see them together, and that would put it to rest. It had been too long as it was. She wasn't a teenager any more. It was time to stop acting like one.

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It was pouring rain. He'd built another fire, and they were snuggled on the sofa. They'd have to leave soon. She summoned her courage to ask, "What was Danijela like?"

"Danijela? Why?"

"Why? Because she was your wife. . .she was important to you, and I'd like to feel that I know her a little."

"She was pretty. . .kind. . .young. . .She liked to clean."

_"She liked to clean?"_ There was disbelief in her voice. Abby hoped that she would be remembered for something less mundane. . .although all things considered, she could be remembered for worse things.

"Yeah. . .I don't know. She was always cleaning, maybe because she was stuck inside with the kids most of the time once the war started. She loved the children. We knew each other forever."

"What were you like together?"

"Together?"

"Yeah. . .What was it like. . .to be married to her?"

"We were young. Really young. It was. . .fine. . .it was. . .good. . .I mean. . .Why?"

"I just want to know. I'll tell you what it was like to be married to Richard - if you want to know."

Luka rolled his eyes at Richard's name. "I. . . probably wasn't any better at making decisions with her than I have been with you. She didn't like it either."

Abby's eyebrows lifted. "Did you fight?"

"Yeah. . .sure. . . She'd stonewall me when she was angry. Stop talking. . .whole bit. . ."

"But you made up."

"Well. . .yes. . .not like we make up, but we made up."

"What do you mean 'not like we make-up'?"

"Well. . .um. . .she was. . .more. . .shy. . ."

"Shy?"

"Shy."

"She was shy when you were making up?" She was confused briefly, till what he was saying hit her. "Ohhhhhhh."

"And no, I don't want to know about Richard."

"Not even the part where I'm not sure if I ever really loved him or just wanted to?"

"Maybe that part."

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They were throwing their things back into the suitcase. She asked as nonchalantly as possible. "And Tatiana?"

He looked at her. "What?"

"So you knew her forever too?"

"She was Danijela's little sister. She hung around . . .and then yeah, she was my wife's sister. . . and an aunt to my children. . .That's what she was Abby."

"I know. . .I know. . . Don't get defensive. I just want to feel like I know something about these people. . .about you. . .I mean you could have mentioned her."

"Sorry." He started again. "I just. . .I didn't think it was. . .important. . .to mention her. Our families knew each other, and I guess even after. . .they stayed close. I think she was with someone for a while, but I guess the guy left. She helped when my father was sick. She brought dinners. She visited him. She sat with him, so Niko and I could go out and take a break. It was hard Abby. It's hard watching your parent. . . . . . dying. . ."

"I know. . .I'm sorry." She reached out, took his hand. "It must have been very hard, and I know I wasn't there for you. . . . . .I didn't know how to be . . .I was too scared myself."

"I guess we were both in our own worlds. . ."

"I was so wrapped up in my own stuff. . .my own fears. . . in letting my. . .all my doubts. . .just eat. . .at me. . .I was so afraid Luka. . .being with Joe all alone. So afraid, I was going to mess it up. . .When he got hurt. . .I was. . .so scared. .I was going to make the wrong decisions. . .that he would. . .that I was going to make us lose him. . ." And, I didn't have you to restore me to sanity.

"Abby."

"I could have. . ."

"No."

"I almost hit a car driving home that night. I could have. . . . . .we could have. . . . . .lost him. . .Joe. . ." I drove with him, drunk. I held him in that cab with no car seat.

"You can't think like that."

"I do think like that. I did. . .I was what you call a dry drunk. I was thinking like an addict long before I drank. It was like I knew I was. . .going to fail. . .and his accident. . .the car. . .they were. . .just reminders. . .how easy it is to fail even when you're trying your best. . .why bother trying and believing if you're going to lose it all any way. . . . . .what's the point. . .of not opening that bottle of wine. . . . . .and then, of course, once. . .I did." She shook her head. "It's hard not to fail when it's all you can hear in your head that you will. . .unless you're. . . ."

"Drunk."

"Yes. Except when I was drunk. I got through the NICU because of you and Mom. . . . . .and this time there were all these people offering to help. . . . . .but. . .I just needed. . ."

"Me. When you needed me most. . .I wasn't there. I made a lot of promises, Abby. About being there. About doing it together. And, I let you down. That's the part I have to live with."

"I never expected to be a mother, Luka. I don't think. I don't think I would have had. . .I'm not sure I would have had a baby with anyone else. And I just, it was too scary being a mother without you, and always being afraid I was going to mess it up. Mess Joe up. Not make the right choices. Not do it right."

"Kids don't need you to be perfect, Abby, they just need you to love them. You're a good mother. You could have told me it was too much."

"No. . .I couldn't tell you. Or I could tell you if I wasn't already in trouble. I wanted to be what you wanted me to be. Do what you wanted me to do. But you see, that's why you're so good for me. You're the opposite of what I tell myself. You remind me that I can do it. I just need to be able to remind myself."

"Just. . .just don't think. . .you have to be something you're not for me. . .or to pretend things are okay when they aren't. . .or pretend you want to spend time in Croatia. . .if you don't. . ."

"That's the trick, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Being myself, and what you need at the same time."

"You don't have to _be_ what I need. You _are_ what I need. . . .If I didn't know it before, I do now. I don't want to lose you again."

"I don't need the grand gestures . . .the big moments. I just I need our life together. I need us to do it together, all of it."

"Meaning your mother and brother too? We do that part together too?"

Touche. She looked at him. He knew her. He did. "Yesss, that's what that means." There would be a learning curve for both of them. She knew that.

"Okay. I'll hold you to it."

"You do that."

He smiled. "I told you once that no one ever knows what they are to each other. Maybe. . .maybe I was wrong. . .maybe we do know. . . . ."

"Maybe we do." She looked at him. A wave of tenderness flooded her. "Make love with me. . .before we go. . .before we're a family again. . .just be with me. . ._just me_. . . "

"It's always just you."

They made love then, slow and sensuous. She wanted to please him, taste, touch, feel all of him, nibble his neck, the spot behind his ear that made him shiver, all of him. Bringing him pleasure increased her own, and she knew it was the same for him. This wasn't about power or control. It was about loving, giving, sharing, every part of her with him, every part of him with her. Sacred. Like a vow. He was on his side looking down on her, just looking for a long moment at all of her. It was incredible for her to watch him looking at her. She wanted him so much. She wasn't embarrassed. She felt beautiful. He made her feel beautiful, sensual. His. When his gaze met hers again, she pulled him down for a long, deep kiss. She'd never be with another man as long as she lived. She knew it. It wasn't a promise to herself. It wasn't something she'd say to him. It would only seem hollow. It was just something she knew. And, she was glad.

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She couldn't wait to get her hands on him again.

"Hey, Joe." She picked him up. Felt all eyes on her. "It's good to see you. We brought you something. . ." Abby carried him over to the sofa. He chattered at her and pulled on her hair. She smiled and nibbled the fingers he brought to her lips. Then she showed him his new book with the words she didn't know, couldn't understand. Luka would have to be the one to read the words, but the pictures she could handle. "Boat. Look at the boat and the lake. . .Mommy and Daddy saw a big lake, and we took a walk and it rained on us. Did you see the rain?"

Luka turned to Niko and Ana. "Thanks for keeping him."

Abby echoed Luka's thanks. "It meant a lot to us." She smiled at them hopefully.

They nodded. Ana spoke. "Our neighbor will watch the children while we're out. Tatiana said she'd meet us at the restaurant. We should probably go soon."

Abby took a deep breath. This was not going to be easy.

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She held up her menu, hid behind it, leaned over to Luka and whispered. "What should I order?"

"What do you feel like?"

"Something with no eyes, and that won't stay with me for five days."

"Mmm.. .this one might be safe." He pointed with his finger.

"Okay. . .You can have the wine if you want it. . ."

"No. . ."

"You can. . ."

"I don't want it. . ."

"It's okay. . ."

"I don't need it. . ."

"Fine."

"Fine."

The hissing stopped, and they dropped their menus to three pairs of inquiring eyes. Hmmm. This wasn't going as she'd planned. The silence had been like a stone when the waiter had asked for their drink order. Luka had ordered a bottle of sparkling water, and Abby had told them to please order whatever they wanted. When still no one said a word, Luka ordered a bottle of wine to boot, and everyone had made polite murmurs about the menu.

Niko considered his sister-in-law. He'd been surprised to see her again. He hadn't realized how pretty she really was. She was so drawn and pale in Chicago. Now, her cheeks were flush and her eyes were bright. And, his brother. . .well, he was at ease, relaxed, no longer locked inside himself. His smile was back. Whatever had happened over the weekend, it had done them both a world of good. That much was clear.

The conversation over dinner was stilted. Abby asked questions about their work and received simple answers. Tatiana was quiet, watchful. Abby turned to her when Luka started to talk to Niko about soccer.

"Tatiana, I wanted to thank you for helping Luka and Joe_." Be big, Abby._ "I'm sorry. . .about the other morning. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot."

"The wrong foot?"

"Like a bad start."

"Oh. It's fine. I was happy to help them."

"You've known Luka a long time?"

"Yes."

"So. . .you're a teacher?"

Her questions were doomed to monosyllabic answers, and so she gave up and turned back to Luka. . .and soccer or football or whatever the hell it was. This was going to be a long night.

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"Niko." Abby grabbed his arm, held him back as the group walked out of the restaurant and up the street. "Sorry, I just wanted to apologize to you. For the way I was, in Chicago. It was a bad time for me, and I wasn't a very good hostess to you."

Niko shrugged. "Apology accepted. It's not me I'm worried about."

"No, I know that."

"He's been through a lot. . .He doesn't need more. . .heartache."

"I know. I love him. I never meant to hurt him."

"Yeah. . .Well, you did."

"I have a disease, but it's treatable. I'm better."

"Look, you and Luka you can call it whatever you want. Whatever makes you feel better. I'm here for him. Not you. For whatever reason, he wants you in his life so that puts you in my life. But it doesn't mean I have to. . .to like it. . ."

"No, you don't. I'm not looking for a free pass here."

"What are you looking for?"

"To get to know you. For you to know me."

"Hey guys." Luka had noticed they were lagging behind, had come back for her. He put his arm around Abby. "Everything okay?"

She looked up at him and smiled. "Yeah. . .fine. . .Niko and I were just talking."

He looked at his brother tried to read his expression. "Good. . .Well, we should go get Joe, take him home."

"Why don't you let him sleep the night? You can come get him in the morning. It won't be a problem."

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They walked into the apartment.

"It's so cold."

"I'll turn up the heat." Luka was tired. That had been long and uncomfortable.

"Luka, I was thinking. Maybe we could visit. . .well take flowers to. . .the graves."

"You mean my parents?" He took off his gloves and coat, only half paying attention. Maybe it wasn't going to work to combine Abby and Croatia.

"Well that too. I meant Danijela and the children."

"They aren't here. We couldn't move them. They're in Vukovar." Well, they'd been happy in Chicago. That would be enough.

"We could go there. Take a train."

"What?" His mind clicked into the conversation. She wanted him to take her Vukovar.


	40. Vukovar

A/N: Before I started down the post-Moretti path, I told myself I would only write it if I could come up with what I believed were character driven reasons for what happened during the season, for the choices they made. Abby was relatively easy – we knew she had abandonment issues, was an alcoholic, had ended up in a strange bed with a blackout earlier in her life. In writing her, I considered more of what her childhood with Maggie might have been like. There was mention in season 7 of men liking Maggie like they liked Abby – and so I imagined that men floated in and out of Abby's young life, affecting her impulses when she drinks, giving her no real sense of what a real relationship looks like, etc, etc. Luka was in some ways more difficult. Why would he stay away so long after he finally had the family he'd craved? What kept him away from Croatia for such a long time prior to his father's illness? This led me to keep asking questions about the character: What drove his guilt after his confession to the Bishop? Why if he had a healthy family and healthy first marriage was he destined to be a doormat to every woman he met in Chicago until his second go around with Abby? Why couldn't he talk to Sam about his past even at the risk of losing Alex? In striving to make sense of the character outside of the tv context - Goran didn't sign for another season so they had to do something, the writers kept him on the merry-go-round with women till they were ready to resolve his character, etc, etc. I came up with a thought, and lived with it for a while. It was inspired to some degree by an article in the New Yorker about the war in Croatia. In the end, it made sense to me as a possibility that made some of his behavior more understandable as well as shifted the ground under his re-forming relationship with Abby in a way that I thought worked.

In terms of the war, I did some on-line research for details, but also tried to triangulate that with what we saw as canon in The Crossing – which wasn't necessarily easy. In terms of Luka's age at the time, I tried again to estimate a reasonable age for him now with an early marriage and a daughter the age of the child in The Crossing – who looked about five to me. I know some of you also ponder the details of these characters – and I stipulate now it would certainly be reasonable to come up with different details wrt the war and Luka's age, backstory etc, etc, but I did my best to make some reasonable choices wrt both, as well as try to live into yet another huge life experience that I have no personal experience with – thank heavens – life in a war zone.

Thanks to Kate for the quote.

_Love enables you to put your deepest feelings and fears in the palm of your partner's hand, knowing they will be handled with care._

_-Carl S Avery_

Vukovar

"You want to do _what_?"

"I think we should go. . .bring flowers. . .see them."

"It's not really them there. It's just. . .the last place they were. . ."

"They're Joe's brother and sister."

"What? Did you make some kind of list?"

"A_ what?_"

"A list. . .You have a list of things to check off here in Croatia?"

"What?"

"Sleep with your husband. Check. Meet his family. Check. Visit the graves of his children. Check. Because I'm not playing any more."

"Playing? You think I'm playing?"

"I think. . .I think. . .this is all about you. . .and it's not. . .okay. . .It's not _all_ about you. . ."

"I don't think it's all about me. I think that you told me you think of your son every day, and you've talked about him maybe three times in eight years. . ."

"And how does going to Vukovar change that?"

"I don't know. . .I just think. . .I think Joe is your third child not your first. . . . . .and we have to stop pretending he is."

Luka shook his head, his voice rising, hands moving. "Pretending? Pretending? I haven't been pretending. I don't talk about them. . . . . .because. . .because. . ."

"Because?"

"Because if Joe and I had died a week after. . . . . .after. . .you and Moretti. . . . . .how often would you talk about us? How often Abby?"

Abby stood shocked, staring at him. What was he telling her? "I. . ."

"What would you have done?"

She shook her head

"What?" It was harsh. Raw.

"Drank myself away. . .Never forgiven myself. . ."

"And you have everyone comforting you. . . . . .for your loss. . . . . .thinking. . .you're something. . .you're not. . . . . .What do you do?"

"Leave. . .I leave. . .and I would never go back. . ."

"Well maybe you'd try . . .and it wouldn't work . . .And then one day you find you can go back. . .because it stopped mattering. . .finally. . . and you are who they think you are again . . ."

"And it feels right to be home. . ."

"Yeah. . . It feels right."

She shook her head slowly. Wow. "I'm sorry, _so sorry_." She took it in. How much alike they were in so many ways, each locked deep inside themselves, too afraid to share their past hurt and pain. It felt like one of the most fragile and precious moments they'd ever shared.

"So, now you know I'm a hypocrite."

She looked at him. His pain. He had every right to feel hurt and angry no matter what. She knew that. He knew that. He just needed to hear it. "I don't think you're a hypocrite. I thought about it. . .the night you stayed out. . .when you were so hurt and angry. . .I thought about what I would do if the shoe was on the other foot. And I would be hurt, really, really hurt and maybe even angry, even having done it myself. . .. . .I would have been. . .but I would forgive you if that's what you wanted. . .and that's what you're doing. . .trying to do. . .I see that. . . . . .That doesn't make you a hypocrite. . .You're a good person. . .a wonderful person."

He shook his head. "I'm not wonderful."

"Yes. . .you are. . .You are wonderful. . .and human. . .and we all make mistakes. You made a mistake, it happens. You loved them, and they loved you."

He looked down. "I'm not sure she would have forgiven me."

"I think she would have." She stood in front of him now, sliding a hand up his chest, to his neck, his face. "I believe she would have."

He looked down into her eyes, felt like he was drowning in them or maybe he was swimming. Hands sliding to her waist to pull her to him. "It. . .was. . .so hard. . .to know what I'd done. . .how stupid I'd been. . .Selfish and curious. . .and young. . .and. . .an idiot. . . . . ."

"I think I can imagine."

"I never told anyone. I couldn't. . . . . .couldn't face it. . . "

"I'm glad you told me. Maybe. . .it's what I came here to know. . .I don't know. . .I just feel like I've been searching for answers. . .and maybe that's one of them. . ."

"Maybe it is."

"Have you. . .have you forgiven yourself?"

"I did. . .finally. Mostly. Have you?" The second it was out he regretted it. He didn't know which answer he hoped for.

"I'm working on it. I. . .It's not a checklist Luka. . .Well, okay. . .maybe it sort of is. . .Maybe I'm trying too hard. . .I just, I want. . .to make it better between us. . . . . .to understand. I mean, I do think someday we should take Joe to Vukovar when he's older, and you can tell him about them. . .whatever you want to tell him. And we can let him know he had a brother and sister before that. . .but we don't have to go there now. . .if you don't want to."

"I'll think about it." He folded her in his arms, resting his head on her hair and feeling her arms wrap around him. What did his mother tell him once? Without forgiveness the world would stop turning. His almost had.

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Luka lay, holding Abby as she slept, carried back over the years, so many years now, to things he hadn't thought about in a long time. He had been so young. He was 24 with two kids and an internship, and the occasional odd job to make ends meet. They'd been happy. They had. They'd loved each other and the children. But once the fighting and the bombing began, they both realized he had been wrong. They should have left when Danijela had wanted to. They were stuck. Trapped. Three months. For three fricken months the bombs fell. Both worried about the children and each other. They'd been arguing. . .a lot. . .even before the bombing . . .whether to stay or to go. . . She'd been so upset, she'd been stonewalling. Both in and out of the bedroom. Fear. It had hung over the apartment. That's why the children had wanted to go with him that day to get out. He'd told them no. He'd been the only one venturing out for almost two weeks. That night. The week before, he'd been out drinking, blowing off steam with his friends. People were doing crazy things. War. . it does things to people makes them. . .do things they wouldn't usually do. Maybe as intoxicating as drink when you are an alcoholic. Maybe. Or maybe it had been the two combined. He'd only been with one woman all his life. . .and he had been curious what it would be like. . .and. . .she'd been angry at him for so long. It wasn't that he hadn't been happy with Danijela, he had been. It was always, nice, sweet and tender, but she hadn't been. . .adventurous. . .and there had been the babies so quickly, he'd wondered. . .And the idea of escape, of not being afraid or feeling guilty or blamed . . . of just being alive, feeling alive for a little bit. . .He'd walked up to the line, and then crossed into the abyss. Having crossed it himself hadn't made it any easier to know Abby had as well. . .Maybe her disease made it different. . .or maybe it was just two sides of the same coin. . He didn't know. . .and it hurt like hell. . .Maybe more instead of less. Of course, he knew the hurt from both sides. . .because after, it hadn't seemed worth it, to know, to have found out what was on the other side of that line. To hurt someone you love. . .For what? Feeling something for a little while that was life and not death, a momentary thrill. . .Still, till now he hadn't been able to admit it to Abby. . .It felt like it would have been co-opting something that belonged to them, their pain, for his own. It was only after they had begun to heal, that he could say it. And, he'd never told Danijela, didn't want to hurt her that way, hadn't had time to understand it himself or accept it. Then they were gone. It seemed like a punishment. It should have been him. They were the innocent ones. He wasn't. But of course the greater curse was being the one to live. He'd left Croatia. Couldn't face his family or friends. Couldn't live with it. Stayed celibate for a long time. Atonement? Lack of interest? Finally, he'd found a place to settle. He began to think it was time to move on. Let it go. Make up for his transgressions with someone else. Fill in where he was needed. Where he could make it up to someone. Someone who reminded him of Danijela. Carol. But she wasn't willing to settle for that, even if he had been. Then there was Abby. He had been amazed, even though she should have wanted nothing to do with him, how they couldn't get enough of each other. So wrong and so right. When it ended, he'd floundered. He'd spent years vacillating between self-destruction and self-flagellation in a series of vacant, dead-end or punishing liaisons or relationships, making attempts at atonement, trying to make it right and always getting it wrong. How do you make up for something to someone after they've died? To a stand-in? Do you take your punishment from anyone who will give it to you? Accept guilt and blame and desertion and loneliness as your due in life? And then there she was. Abby. Again. He'd told her the truth before, that the night when he'd kissed her, he'd let it go. Put it behind him. He'd put in his years of service. Like Jacob for Rachel. Enough was enough. He'd served his time. The Bishop had only given him partial absolution. He couldn't tell him everything. How could he? How could he bring himself to say the words? To own that he had betrayed the wife he loved. . .his children. . himself. Somehow though it was right. Right that Abby be the one to know. Since she'd had the courage to say it. To admit it. To own it. The courage he had lacked. Abby. The only one to know him. To see him. To absolve him. It was done. Finally. Completely. Done.

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Abby took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door. She'd crept out while Luka was still sleeping, leaving him a note. She wanted to do this alone. Niko answered a moment later, and she heard Joe chattering in the background. She hadn't come too early.

"Hi. I. . .I came for Joe. I know he's been getting up early. I brought some coffee. It's Luka's favorite kind. I don't know if you and Ana. . .like it?"

"Thanks. Come on in." He stood back and she walked in set the coffees on the table, walked over to Joe and picked him up.

"About. . .about last night."

"I shouldn't have said what I did."

"No, I'm glad you did. I wanted to know where I stood. I just. . .Can we talk?"

"Ana and the kids will be up soon. But yeah, sure. Sit down." He handed her one of the coffees and took one for himself.

"I understand. . .why you're concerned. . .about Luka. . .and Joe. . .It's just. . .well, you've sort of come in the middle of a complicated story. My story and. . .my story with Luka. I was thinking on the way over here that. . .that it's almost exactly eight years since the first time I met him." Abby looked down, smiled, blushed. She looked like she was 16.

"Love at first sight?"

Was that sarcasm or an accent? In any case, she ignored it. "Something like that anyway. At least for me, I don't know. . .I don't think for him. . .He was seeing someone else at the time. We worked together for months before anything happened."

"Before he asked you out?"

"Before I kissed him."

Niko raised his eyebrows.

"We were working this crazy shift together. I'd just had to drop out of med school, and so I was working as a nurse again. And we were sitting on this bench talking. . . . . .and he looked at me, and he told me that I could be a great doctor. And he was looking at me like he believed it, at a point in my life when I didn't. And I kissed him. I just. . .kissed him. I surprised myself, and him."

Niko watched her. She was stroking Joe's hair, rocking him instinctively, lost in the memory.

She shook her head, shook it off. Looked at Niko. "I just. . .I got lost without him. If you've never been lost, it's really hard to understand what that's like, what can happen. . .Luka and I we've been through a lot together and a lot when we weren't together. But we've always. . .we could always count on each other. . .and I guess we still are.. . .We still do. I hate that I hurt him."

"But you did."

"Yes. I did. He loves you and your family and being here, and I just don't want him to have to choose."

"He'd choose you."

"I'd never ask him to choose."

"You think I would?"

"I hope not. It's just. . .I know what we have in common. We love Luka and Joe and maybe we love them enough. . .to. . .to. . ."

"What?"

"Try."

"Try?"

"Yes. To try again. Both of us. I know you were trying in Chicago, and I wasn't. I couldn't. And now I'm trying, and you're not and maybe that's fair enough. I probably deserve it if you don't want to try any more. But maybe he doesn't."

Niko studied her. For the first time he was beginning to understand what his brother saw in her. "Okay. I'll try again. For my brother. And Joe."

Abby smiled. That was a start.

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"Is Daddy still sleeping? Come on Joe. Time to wake him up." She carried him into the bedroom. His eyes partly open against the light streaming in the room.

"Hey."

"Hey sleepy head. Go get him, Joe." She put Joe on the bed. He made a bee-line for Luka's chest and was rewarded by a sound round of tickling from his father.

Abby smiled. There was nothing like it. Hearing her boys laughing. "You two have fun. I'll make breakfast. Oh, and we're going over to Niko and Ana's for dinner tonight. Your brother insisted." She smiled at him and left the room. He knew there was a reason he was hopelessly in love with her.

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"Janet? Hi, it's Abby."

"Abby. It's been a few days. Everything okay?"

"Yeah it is actually. It's been really pretty good. Luka and I. . .we had some time alone. I feel like we're getting there you know. And I made progress with his brother this morning."

"Made progress?"

"Yeah. . I mean. . .getting comfortable. . .making up for. . ."

"You're on step 8? You want to update me on all the others?"

"I'm not really making amends. . .just sort of. . ."

"Abby?"

"Oh my God. I'm doing it again."

"What?"

"I'm skipping. . .I haven't. . .When things are good, when I have him. . ."

"And that worked out before, huh?"

"No. Program. A meeting. I'll go to a meeting. I'll back up. I will."

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"Luka. I was thinking. We don't have to go to Vukovar if it's not what you need or want to do."

"Funny, I was thinking we should go."

"You were?"

"Yeah. It's been long enough. I've never been back there. Maybe. . .we should go."

"Thank you for telling me."

"It was time for that too. It doesn't. . . . . .bother you?"

She shook her head. "You were a kid in a war zone. . .Far be it from me. . .Anyway. . .somehow it makes. . .it more real."

"What?"

"You. Danijela. I always saw it as this perfect thing, her the perfect wife and mother. . .Perpetual marital bliss 24/7 - something no mere mortal could aspire to. And now it. . .you were two kids in love who got married young, had kids and struggled like everyone else. . . . . .except you got caught . . .in a war zone. . .I kind of like it better this way."

"It wasn't a contest."

"Maybe not for you. . ."

"It still bothered you? "

"Not for a long time. . .but I don't know when my thinking got screwed up. Yeah I thought about what you had, thought while you were here you must have been thinking about what you had. . .and what you didn't with me. . ."

"What I didn't have with you?'

"A beautiful, docile, fertile wife, that came without a truckload of baggage."

"Oh. That's not what I was thinking."

"I know. Being here, hearing what you had to say, understanding more, I get why you were here. I made it about me and us, and it was about you and your family. I see that now. I just wish. I wish I had been strong enough to have understood then. To have come here before. A dry drunk doesn't know much Luka - and a drunk, drunk knows less. So about that meeting today. . ."

"I can go with you if you want."

"Are you. . .Do you want to go to another Al-Anon meeting?"

"Ummm no thanks." He'd had no fewer than three pieces of paper with phone numbers pressed into his palm with the admonishment to call him if he needed to talk. He wasn't really sure that was going to be the venue for him.

"No?"

"Not really for me. Well maybe. . .in Chicago. . if you want me to. . .try. . .again. I mean I'm glad I went to get. . .I don't know. . .some perspective. . .but. . ."

"But?"

"It was just me and one other guy and a lot of women and it was a little. . .weird."

"Oh."

She seemed disappointed. "It's okay. . .I'll find my own way. . ."

"Yeah?"

"How's that go? One day at a time."

"One day at a time."

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Ana sat across from them. Watching. She'd come out in the morning to find Niko and Abby laughing. Niko was telling stories about Luka, and it seemed Abby had one or two herself. Something about gluing a hand to a forehead. Anyway. She'd raised her eyebrows, and taken the coffee Abby offered. And wondered. Now, Luka and Abby sat on her couch. Joe crawled over their laps or scrambled around the floor till he was carried off by his cousins. His arm was around her, occasionally stroking her shoulder or twining his fingers in her hair. She rested her forearm on his leg, hand on his knee, leaning into him.

They'd made almost no demonstrations of physical affection last night, other than his hand politely on her back. So what was different? Tatiana. She knew that Niko had told Luka, had figured from Tatiana's report of her morning meeting with Abby that Abby knew. She'd encouraged Tatiana not to come to the dinner, felt sure it was a set-up by Abby to take her victory lap. Yet, she'd laid no claim to him last night. Had not made the gestures of ownership every woman knows - the hand grab, the frequent touch, the stories about "us" and "we". Not a one. She had avoided making a public display of their marriage. She'd been kind.

Ana found herself curious. Maybe there was more to Abby than she had thought. Niko had changed his own tune abruptly enough. Niko and Luka were telling stories. . .again. She rolled her eyes. She'd heard them a hundred times. Luka finished one that was supposed to be amusing, and Abby laughed, longer and with greater pleasure than the story deserved, but genuinely. She looked at him like the sun rose and set on him. And he looked at her like. . . . . .well. . .like he had some plans for her. . .later on. . .They were in love. She wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. She felt badly. She'd given Tatiana false hope. Encouragement when she should not have. After everything that had happened with Abby, and she had no idea what everything was, but she could imagine it was pretty bad, it was obvious that they really were in love with each other.

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"Well, that went well."

"It did. It really did. I like them. I do. Mostly. . .You know you can have something to drink when we're out."

"Mostly? Hey, I thought you didn't want me to do that."

"I never said that."

"Yes, you did."

"When?"

"In Chicago. . .that night you came home. . .late. . .and. . .you were angry. . ."

"I told you I didn't want you to drink?"

"Yeah. . .you asked me why I did that. . .You don't remember?"

"Ummmm. . . . . .No. . .I mean I remember you waiting up for me and telling me about your father. . . . . .What else did I say to you?"

"Not much. . .Just about me not answering my cell when Joe was hurt. . .why I didn't answer. . . . . .How I'd promised we'd do it together. . .and how it. . .was. . .always. . .about what I wanted."

"I said those things to you?'

Luka nodded. "You really don't remember?"

She shook her head. "I really. . .don't. . .remember. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Doesn't mean they weren't true."

"Luka . . . ."

"I should have understood more. . .asked more. . ."

"I'm fine with you drinking when we're out. I'm not so sure we should have it in the house. Maybe if you want a beer, buy one and finish it."

He shook his head. "No, I don't need it."

"I thought you couldn't give it up."

"I missed you more than . . .alcohol, Abby. Maybe it's better if neither of us drinks. It's not much to give up. . .for me. . .and this way. . .I'll remember. . .what you're giving up. "

No wonder she was hopelessly in love with him. She took his hand, laced her fingers through his. "I love you."

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The next morning they took the train to Vukovar.

They walked through the gravesites, looking. He didn't remember. It had been too long. They were the only ones there. It felt like they were the last three people anywhere. Finally, they found them. She stood, holding Joe. After a time, he bent down and ran his hands over their names.

"Eight-seven days. It went on eighty-seven days." He glanced at the graves. "They made it 70." He shook his head. "She wanted to leave. . .before. . .I wanted to finish. . .to be . . .a doctor. . .to help people. . .for a long time I wished it had been me."

She knelt down to look him in the eye, hold Joe between her legs where he could see him. "But then there wouldn't be a Joe."

He looked at his son and smiled took his small hand between his fingers and rubbed it. "I'm glad there's a Joe."

"You can tell us about them. Keep them alive with us."

Then he started to talk. He told her about his first date with Danijela, Jasna's birth. .how it seemed the labor would never end, Marko's first steps. . . . He shook his head. "I wonder what would have happened if they'd lived.. . . if I'd had to tell her . . .or never tell her . .. . . . .If we would have got through it . .. I . .. it was so hard that last week. . .I felt . . .so awful. . .and it made. . .it made me short with them. . .distant. . .Sort of like you with me and Joe in Chicago. . .I just. . . I wanted. . . I wanted it to not be true . . .to not hurt her . . .but I did. . .even. . .not telling. . .I did. That's why. . .why I knew. . . I had to know. . . you had to tell me . . .I guess it's the why for a lot of things. . ."

She reached out, stroked his cheek with the back of her gloved hand.

"Oh, Luka. I wish there'd been nothing to tell. . .for either of us. . .But. . . I think you were right. You had to know, or it would still be between us, and I think. . .I think you would have told her when you were ready. . .that she would have forgiven you. . .in time. Maybe. . .maybe it would have made it even better in the end. . .made you appreciate each other more. . ."

"Maybe. . .or maybe. . .it would have broke us. . . . . .You didn't. . .you didn't want to see me because you were afraid I wouldn't forgive you. How can you believe she would have forgiven me?"

"I. . . . . .You're right. I was afraid. I. . .When Ames took you, I realized just how much I love you. . .and what my life would be like without you. But. . .it. . .it hasn't been till now. . .till I've seen you working. . .so hard to forgive me. . .to understand me. . . . . .I still see the best of me in your eyes. . .I understand how much you love me too. Before. . .I came here I didn't understand why. . .why you stayed away so long. I thought. . .I thought if you were looking for a reason to leave. . .and well, I knew I'd given it to you. I was afraid that you would take it. I was afraid of doing this without you. Of living my life without you. Sometimes Luka. . .people do things. . .because what they really want is a way out. . .They're looking for an escape hatch. . .and sometimes. . .they're just looking. . . in the wrong place. . .One you can get passed. . . the other you can't. I don't think either you or Danijela were looking for a way out. . .You were. . .just looking.for. . .something. . ."

Luka nodded. Took her hand. Studied her face. Soft even in the cold. She was an incredible person. She was worth the risk and the work. He was lucky to have her. Very lucky. And for the first time, he told her that.

It was incredibly strange being there again. Walking the streets. He was quiet much of the time. "It got worse here. . . after they died. . .It got worse. A nightmare. . .It was a nightmare. . .in so many ways. . .They even bombed the hospital. . .A friend got me out of the city . . .I didn't care enough to get out myself. We made it but. . .just barely. . .They needed doctors. . .Those who didn't get out. . .even if you were a civilian. . .it didn't matter. . .If they captured you, you were dead. . ." He'd lost a lot there. Family, friends, a piece of himself. He couldn't imagine being back there, in that place, without her. Her hand, her smile, her voice. The traces of war remained on the city. Some things weren't easily repaired.

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Abby shifted uncomfortably. The hotel bed felt cramped, lumpy, rough. But he felt good. His arms around her, her head on his chest. One more question. "Luka. . .why didn't you ask me to come to Croatia? I mean before, when you were taking care of your father."

"I thought. . .I thought. . .if you wanted to come you would have told me. . . asked again. I just thought you. . .would be happier. . .more comfortable. . .at home. . ."

She pressed in closer to him. "Now, I'm home."

Luka smiled and kissed the top of her head, held her closer. They weren't going to lose this. They weren't. There was peace in Vukovar.


	41. What Doesn't Kill Us

A/N: Once again, your thoughtful reviews have really touched me. I want to agree completely with those who said that Luka cheating on Danijela is out of character. I think that's point. With both Abby and Luka, we have seen moments where they are, in a sense, out of themselves. As I thought about it, I realized that it's often been in times of fear when they have felt their emotional supports pulled out from under them. For Abby, we saw it as drinking (twice now) and, through her disease, destructive behavior for herself and those around her. For Luka, (in season 9) I think what we saw was risk-taking or thrill-seeking behavior. So, I just turned the dial back to a young man, caught in an awful situation, feeling guilt and fear and imagined having his emotional rug pulled out (which wasn't hard after the losing Marko at the beach story and crying alone) – and it felt to me like perhaps that thrill seeking emerged there. But, it certainly wasn't about not loving his wife – thus the tenderness we always saw from him wrt to her in the same way that I think if Abby lost Luka, she would - years down the road - remember their time together with deep tenderness. Both characters certainly have always shown great regret and pain when they realize their self-destruction has pulled others down. It is a credit to the actors, I think, and why they remain sympathetic characters because despite the rather terrible things they do at times, their horror and disgust mirrors our own.

Wrt the point that it was more about Luka than needed for Abby-Luka, I completely agree there too. As I said, this was about me coming to understand the characters in a way that would allow me to write them authentically through this. Not that it is the only way to understand the characters or the "right" way. It is just that I felt to write them, I had to flesh out their back-stories in my mind and especially wrt Luka and what was going on for him that kept him in Croatia for so long. For me personally, that had to be more than just that he was caring for his father. I felt like he had to be unwinding something more to keep him away so long, and that in many ways this "fit". The one experience I have had in common is a parent dying of cancer, and while there is the pull to be there and do whatever you can, there's a balance with also being there for the family you yourself have created. So, his being gone that long had to be about more for me to believe it. I felt that having a guilty secret that had been a wedge for so long, and then being at the place where he'd come to a greater level of acceptance and moved beyond it, making re-establishing closeness with the family he loved possible, just made more sense to me. I also found once he spoke it – it did shift things between them and made their progress feel more "right" to me. However, I don't think it was so much what the revelation was, but that they came to understand one another more fully – and could gain compassion for each other – and I think that will be the key for Zabel's fix (I hope), that through this they understand one another more deeply and it solidifies them rather than tears them apart.

Oh – this one gets a little sappy at the end. But I think there's some sort of minimum requirement of that in fanfiction. ; ) Besides, I think like grammar abuse – if you know you're doing it – it's not sooooooo bad. : )

What Doesn't Kill Us

Her intake of breath was so sharp, so intense, it woke Luka. She was sitting up, hand on her heart, then her forehead. Breathing fast. Heart pounding. Hands shaking.

"Abby?"

"Joe. . .Joe. . .Where's Joe . . ?"

"He's sleeping. He's fine. . .Abby?"

She was crying. Making small wounded noises. "Joe. . ." She scrambled out of bed and started for the door. Her panic roused him. She made it to the door first, but his reach was longer, and he put a hand on the door.

"You're going to scare him. Abby calm down. Joe is fine. You had a bad dream."

"Let me out. . ."

"Abby!" He turned her to face him, took her firmly, one hand on either shoulder. "Open your eyes. Look at me, Abby. Look at me."

She opened her eyes then, took him in. He relaxed his grip. "He's fine, Abby. I promise you. He's asleep in the next room. We can go see him. Just take some breaths. It's okay. Joe's fine."

He started taking slow deep breaths himself, and she matched him. Like breathing through a labor pain. Together.

"God. . .Luka. . ." She wrapped her arms around him then, and he put his around her, rocking and shushing her like a child, stroking her hair.

"It was a dream. Just a dream."

When she was calm, they went to check on Joe, sleeping peacefully in his crib, hands by his head, soft, sweet, safe. Abby reached out to touch him tentatively, gently. Her baby. Her sweet baby.

Luka watched them. When she was ready, he took her back to bed and held her. "Do you want to tell me?"

She shook her head no, he couldn't see it, but he could feel it. "Okay, try and sleep."

"Luka promise me. . .promise. . .me something. . ."

"Anything. What?"

"If. . . . . .if I really can't do this. . . . . .you'll take care of Joe. You won't leave him. . . . . .no matter what. . .even if you have to. . ."

"Don't Abby."

"Even if you have to leave me. Swear you won't leave him with me like that. . .if it's that bad. . .that you have to go. . . . . .Promise me. . .Swear it."

"Abby. . ."

She lifted her head to look him in the eye. "Please. . .just promise me. . ."

"It won't happen. It won't be like that."

"I know. But if it is. . .just if it is. Stay with him."

"I'll stay with both of you."

"Say it. . ..You'll stay with him."

"I'll stay."

"With Joe. . .no matter what."

"No matter what."

She nodded and put her head back down. He held her closer, and listened to her breathing become slow and steady, and then she was asleep.

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Abby awoke to the sounds of her boys in the other room. They were back in his father's apartment after returning from Vukovar the previous day. She smiled. Last night. The dream. The nightmare. The smile faded, and she lay and thought.

Finally, she roused and headed out to them. To say what she needed to say. To be brave. To be the mother. To choose her son. "Hey." She leaned down to kiss first Luka and then Joe gently on the top of the head. "Want more coffee?"

"Sure. . .You okay?" Luka turned to look at her. Joe decided he was done with his book and climbed off Luka's lap, heading for his blocks.

Abby returned with the coffee and sat down next to him. "Yeah. . .I'm. . . sorry I woke you."

"No. . .no problem." He was studying her.

"I meant what I asked you. . .what I said. . .last night. . .I've been thinking."

"Abby. . .I. . .I know I told you I wasn't sure. . .what would happen. . .if it. . .if it happened again. . .but. . .I didn't mean. . .I didn't mean I'd just. . .leave. . ."

"I know. You aren't my father, and I'm not my mother. And I believe I'm going to stay sober. I do. And, I know if I. . .can't. . .that you wouldn't leave unless. . .unless. . .it. . .was bad. . .really. . .really bad. . .and so if that's what you need to do. . .ever. . .then you. . .need to take care of Joe. . .too."

Luka shook his head.

"I spent time. . .thinking about and talking about my parents. . .and my childhood while I was in rehab. . .and trying to understand. When I think about why. . .how my father left us. . .I wonder if he thought if he took us. . .he'd take away her last reason for getting well. . .for trying. . .or maybe. . .maybe it was just the idea you don't take children from their mothers. . .and I'm not saying that he should have taken us away. . .all the time or completely, but we needed. . .a parent. . . . . .when Maggie couldn't be one. . .and we didn't have that. I don't want that for Joe."

"He needs his mother. He needs you."

"I know, and I want to be there for him. I do. But, Luka, Maggie loved me too, and. . .I had to ask neighbors for food sometimes. I had to take care of myself and my brother and try to keep things together. . .when I was just a kid. She chased me with a knife once. . ."

Luka shook his head, eyes full of sorrow for the childhood or lack of one Abby had had to endure. "I'm sorry, Abby. I'm so sorry that happened to you, but you're not bipolar."

"No, I'm not. But I made bad choices with Joe, with _our_ son, while I was drinking. I didn't hurt him, but I could have. I can't be. . .alone with him. . . if I drink. I have to stay sober. I want to be sober. It's just. . .please. . .think of him first. . . . . .if you have to. . .if it ever. . .gets . . .so. . .bad. . .Okay?"

Luka stood, crossed the room, then turned to face her. "What you're asking me. . .It's like you're asking me to choose. . .When I found them. . .after the bombing. . . . . ..Danijela and Jasna were still alive. Danijela was bleeding. . .and Jasna stopped breathing in my arms. I started doing CPR, but finally I was too exhausted. By the time I stopped, Danijela was dead. I always. . .I always wondered if I had got her out right away. . .to a hospital, she might have lived. I didn't save either of them. . ."

Abby looked down, then lifted her eyes to meet his. "You did what she would have wanted you to do. You couldn't give up on your daughter. You weren't wrong. I trust you. I trust you with this. . .to be careful. . .and kind. . .and to love our son and do what's best for him. Just like you did the day he was born. . .and when I needed help. . .Just be with him if there's ever a time again when I can't be. . .whether I'm getting help or. . .not. . ."

"It's not going to happen like that, Abby. You have to believe that we're going to. . .that we're going to stay a family. . .You have to believe we can do this. . .that you can stay well. . ."

"I do. I do believe it. I just. . I need us to say this to each other this once. . I'm not going to focus on it. . .I just have to love Joe enough. . .and trust you enough. . .to say it. . .and for you. . .to. . .well, I hope for you. . .to. . .to do what you need to. . .for him. . .Whatever happens – take care of Joe first. Okay?"

Luka ran his hand through his hair, nodded slowly. It was too much to think about what she was saying, asking, but she needed to hear him say it. "Okay."

Abby took another deep breath. "Good." She stood and crossed the room to stand in front of him, felt his arms go around her, wrapped herself around him. She lifted her head and his forehead pressed into hers, he let his fingers absently play with the end of a strand of her hair. Joe came over and pushed in between them. Abby smiled and picked him up. Suddenly she was awash with home sickness. She felt done. At least for now. "Luka, are you ready to go home?"

"Almost."

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They walked hand in hand. Ante carried Joe with Marika walking behind them. Niko and Ana followed. Abby carried the flowers. They reached Josip's grave in silence. The gravestone was new: "Loving Husband and Father." Abby set the flowers down. Stared at the words in Croatian. Looked at the marker next to it. Luka's mother, Mirna. Luka's parents. Joe's grandparents. Neither she nor Joe would ever know them. Luka knelt. He, Niko and Ana began reciting prayers in Croatian. Abby stood behind. Watching. Watching his face. It hit her. What he'd done. Alone. Because she couldn't think of any one but herself. Because she was so wrapped up in her fear. Fear that she was losing him. She hadn't been able to see. She had had to beg him to see her. But if any one had stopped seeing first, it had been her. He had done it alone. If any one should know what it was to care for a parent, hope they would get well, watch them die, it was her. And, she had never let herself imagine. Not really. Not once. She'd just been so afraid. That he would leave. That he didn't love her enough. . . .as much as he'd loved before. That he was happier here. He had done it alone. All of it. She glanced at Niko and Ana. No, not alone. But without her. No wonder he had brought Niko home with him. He shouldn't have had to do it without her. And he'd never reproached her. Not once. He'd made one request. One. Don't make it harder than it already is. Not help me. Not care enough to ask what I'm doing here. Just not to make it harder. And she'd made it about herself. She hadn't just made it harder. She'd nearly blown up their lives. _She_ could have got on the plane. _She_could have been the one to go to him and help and see and understand. And she'd just been too afraid. Too damn afraid. The tears welled up again. Damn. She was so sick of crying. So absolutely sick of it. But she couldn't help it. There they were. This time they weren't for What Had Happened. They were the tears of What Could Have Been. If she'd got on a plane. Come to him. Months ago. Before. Before any of it. The tears. She kept wiping at them with the back of her gloved hand. Hoping they would stop before any one but the children saw. The praying stopped and there was silence. Then he lifted his face to her, and he saw. He stood and walked back to her.

"Abby?"

She shook her head. _Damn, this isn't about me_. Kept wiping at the hot tears. Wishing them away.

He glanced over at Niko and Ana watching them, saw her trying to avert her face. He took her hand, and shielding her, moved her away a bit. Bent and pressed his forehead into hers. "What?"

She closed her eyes. "I should have been here with you. _For you_. I'm your _wife_. I should have. . . I should have got on a plane months ago. You shouldn't have done this without me. Taken care of him. Buried your father. Here. .. where everything happened.. . to you before. Joe never even. .. "

"I should have asked you to come."

"I'm sorry. I let you down." Hands clasped tight, foreheads still touching.

Luka closed his eyes. Dropped hands to take her in his arms. "I let you down too."

She shook her head. Then buried her head in his chest, wrapped her arms around him.

"You're here now, Abby. That's what counts. We'll do the rest together. Okay?"

He felt her nod and tighten her hold. He couldn't help but think how his father would have loved her.

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Ana and Niko insisted on throwing a going-away party for them.

"It will be small? Right?" Abby looked at Luka.

"Yeah, just family. . .good friends. . ."

Well, there was small and then there was small, and this wasn't small, no matter how you looked at it. Abby was awash in curious Croatians. After awhile, she snuck away to a quiet corner to catch her breath.

"Abby?"

It was Tatiana. Great. "Yeah. Hi."

"I just. . .I'm sorry about the other night. I don't think I was very. . .nice."

"No. . .no, that's okay."

"I was wanting to ask. . .if you mind if I spend some time with Joe today? I don't know when I'll see him again. . .and. . ."

"I'm sure he'd like that."

Tatiana turned to go, then turned back. "I. . .I thought some things that weren't true. . ."

"We all do that sometimes."

"It's just. . .there was this man. . .for years. . .off and on. . .and then last year. . .he disappeared. . .I guess for good. . .he was. . .I don't know how you say it. . .?"

"A jerk? A prick? An asshole? A wanker?"

"I don't know. . .but they sound right." She smiled at Abby, who returned it. "Anyway. . .I guess I always thought I'd be a mother by now. . .have a different kind of life. . .than I do. . .and Luka is such a. . .nice. . .man. . ."

"He is."

"Not that he ever. . .It wasn't him. . .He never did anything. . .wrong. . ."

Abby nodded. She had always thought she'd have a different life too.

"It was just. . .me."

Abby nodded again. "It's easy to feel that way about him." She glanced over to where he was standing in a small group talking animatedly and grinning. God, she loved that grin. He caught her eye and smiled. Raised an eyebrow at her conversational companion. Abby smiled and nodded. She was okay.

Tatiana nodded and took a deep breath. "Well then, I'll find Joe."

"I think Ante has him."

"Great." She turned to walk away again then turned back. "I hope everything works out for you. For all of you. I really do."

"Thanks. Me too. And I hope things work out for you too. Sometimes. . . . . .sometimes. . .someone surprises you. . .and he's worth the wait. . .I did that thing with the jerks myself. . ."

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Abby took a deep breath. You have to say something. "Ana?"

"Yes?"

"I just wanted. . .to thank you for today. And for everything. For taking care of Joe. For helping Luka all those months. I'm glad. I'm glad I got to meet you and Niko. I hope. I hope we can get to know each other better. . .next time. Or if you. . .if you want to come visit. . ."

Ana considered her. "Luka's happy again. That meant a lot to Josip and Niko. We've been worried about him. . .He's family."

Abby nodded. "I understand."

"Since Niko and Luka decided to keep the apartment, I hope you come and use it next year. Joe should spend time here. Get to know his family."

Since_we_decided. "I agree."

"And we should get to know you. . ."

"I'd really like that."

Ana nodded. "Good."

Abby glanced into the living room her jaw dropped, and she gestured. "What are they doing?"

"Oh. . .no. I think they're going to sing."

"Should we. . .stop them?"

Ana shook her head sadly, "I don't think we can. . ."

They caught each other's eye before they started to laugh.

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She watched him. She had been right. He was happy here. Comfortable. At home. AND he loved her. AND he loved Joe. AND he wanted their life in Chicago. He had just been unable or too afraid to tell her. To ask for this. But she could give it to him. She could, and she would. The party seemed to be never-ending. Abby was getting tired, but Luka was having such a good time. She didn't want to pull him away. Some of the men had even brought instruments, were starting to play different tunes. Luka went over to talk to them a few minutes, then he made a beeline for Abby.

"Hey, come here. . ." He took her hand and pulled her over.

"What?"

"Dance with me."

"Dance with you?"

"Yeah. . .They're playing our song."

"Our song?"

"Well the one they know anyway. Seems like they know Elvis - Stevie not so much."

She let him take her in his arms. Pull her into him. He looked down at her. She looked up at him, and he began to sing, softly, only for her. "Wise men say. . .only fools rush in. . . . . .but I can't help falling in love with you. . ."

She laughed at him, shook her head and pressed in closer, felt the tears sting her eyes. So this was love. This was forgiveness. This was a higher power. Not Luka. Not just him, but this. . .this feeling. . .this entity. . .The mystery. . .of love. It was worth believing in. In all its forms. They looked at each other, and she gave him a half smile before arching back, throwing herself into the void, knowing he would be there to catch her.


	42. Point of Departure

A/N: Thanks to all those who took the time to review, and thanks to those who take the time to read especially my beta readers. Point of clarification - Passports usually take 4-6 weeks, I think with the back-log it might have been more like 6-10. From what I can make of ER time, Luka left in May, Abby started to drink in September, and slept with Moretti in November. So, she could have indeed got on a plane, and I thought it was important the character own her choices. Just as it was important, Luka owned his.

Point of Departure

Joe was asleep, and Abby was home packing. They had a flight out the next morning. Luka sat at the bar with his brother. The last time he'd been there had not been a good night. When the bartender approached, without hesitation, Niko ordered two beers.

Luka interrupted. "Make it one. I'll take club soda."

Niko raised his eyebrows.

"I've decided not to drink."

"Abby?"

"Yes. If she has to do it, why shouldn't I?"

"Because you aren't the alcoholic?"

Luka licked his lips and pressed them together and looked at his brother.

"You're really sure about this? Her?"

"Yes."

"What happened. . .when she was drinking?"

Luka's eyes clouded, and he winced and shook his head. The drinks arrived, and he turned his attention to his. Suddenly, a beer sounded pretty good. To be just a little numb. To take away the edge of the thoughts his brother's question brought to his mind. That's what she had wanted, to be numb . . . instead it had caused. . . pain. He took a sip of his club soda. If she could do it, give it up, so could he.

"Sorry. Never mind. I just. . .You're going to be okay?"

"Yes." He shook it off. The past was the past.

"Are you going to disappear again?"

"No. I'll be in touch. Besides, I don't want you to make off with all the money from Tata's apartment."

"Yeah. . .I'll make a fortune."

Luka smiled. "You're sure you want to keep it? Give it a go? I don't know. . .I don't know how much time we'll be able to spend here. . .work . . .everything. We're just sort of feeling our way right now."

"I'm sure. It will be here if _you_ need it."

"_We_ need it."

"Yes, Luka, when your family needs it."

"Come on. . .You like her. . .just a little bit."

"I admit it. . .There are times when I. . .get it."

"Get it?"

"Why. . .your decision."

"She's. . .special."

"I know she is to you. I just hope. . ."

"I know. Me too. You wouldn't give up on Ana."

"She'd never give me reason to."

"Listen. . .whatever happened while Abby was drinking. . .I've done worse. . .with less of an. . .excuse. . .and she. . .she knows. . .about all of it . . well almost _all _of it. She still loves me. It's not. . .it's not so impossible to return the favor."

"What don't I know?"

"Nothing you need to. Bartender? Another beer for my brother."

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Niko drove them to the airport, helped them carry the bags and the extra boxes with some of their father's things.

Luka's nose crinkled. "Whoa, Joe. Someone needs a change. I'll take him." Niko and Abby watched him carry Joe away.

Abby looked at Niko. Nervous. She tucked her hair behind her ears. "So. . ."

"So. Take care of yourself, Abby. And them."

"I will."

"It's just. . .it's just he. . ." She could see him searching for the words he wanted. "He carries. . .you know. . .like on his back. . .he carries what he has to. It doesn't mean. . .it's not killing him. Just. . .just be. . .gentle. . .be careful. . .with him."

Her eyes stung. The seventh ring of hell. Betraying the person you love. Was she doomed to be stuck there forever? "I will be. . . . . .I. . ." She looked down. Took a deep breath. Looked Niko in the eyes. "I hate that I hurt him. But. . .now I know things about myself. . . about him. . .about us. . .that I wouldn't have known. . .and. . .I'll hang onto those things for the rest of my life, and I think he will too."

Niko nodded. "He loves you."

"I love him too." She put out her hand, cocked her head at him. "For Luka?"

He studied her eyes for a moment, was satisfied with what he saw there. He disregarded her hand in exchange for a hug. It was a surprise, but not unwelcome, and she embraced Luka's brother. Family. They had taken the long way to get here. But, maybe that was just how she and Luka did things. Never simple. Never easy. But always worth it.

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Flying home. Eventually Joe drifted off to sleep. Abby reached for Luka's hand. "So. . .we didn't really talk too much about work."

"No, I guess we didn't."

"Well you know, sixty meetings in sixty days, random tests."

"That's a lot."

"It's fine. But um. . . "

"Yeah?"

"I. . .There was a staff meeting. . . and I. . .I told everyone where I was."

Luka's eyebrows went up. "What did you say?"

"That I hadn't been in Croatia. That I respected everyone too much to lie. That I was an alcoholic and had been in rehab."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"That you're glad I was honest. That you support my decision."

"So that's the way it is?"

"What?"

"You get to make decisions without me, but I have to run everything by you?"

"_No._ . . that's not. . .You're angry?" She was surprised. This wasn't the reaction she had expected. Not at all.

"I. . .I don't know what I am. . . . . .I don't think. . .I don't think I want to talk about it now."

But, I want to talk about it now. I need to talk about it now. But, he doesn't. He needs time. . .for whatever this means to him. Give him time. "Okay. We'll talk at home."

Luka nodded, dropped her hand, and picked up a magazine. Abby sighed and looked out the window. They weren't there yet.

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They'd made it home. Settled Joe. He was finally asleep. They were exhausted. Done in. Still. She had to say something.

"Luka?"

"Yeah?"

"I know, I know maybe this isn't the best time to talk. We're both tired. But just. . can we try?"

Luka shrugged, put his hands on his hips. "I just wish. . .I wish we'd talked about it before you told everyone."

"Are you. . .are you ashamed of me? Embarrassed?"

"No. . .no it's not that. . ."

"I just. . .I didn't want to lie. I don't want to be that person any more that hides herself away. . .because she's too scared for people to see her. . ."

"I. . .It's just. . .look. . .I get that for you. . .this relapse. . .it was. . .it was. . .about _everything._ . .work. . .friends. . .but for me. . .for me. . . it's really. . .private. . .about. . .us. . .and Joe. . .and. . .what. . .what happened. . .to us. . .and. . .I'm not. . .not ready. . ." Damn this was hard. It was hard to go back to it. He just wanted to leave it behind. To leave it behind them forever. Maybe that was easier in Croatia than it would be in Chicago. "Does anyone. . .does anyone. . ._know._ . .what happened?"

Moretti. He was thinking about Moretti. Again. _Oh God, Luka_. Was this ever going to stop hurting him? Was _she_ ever going to stop hurting him? She shook her head." No. No. . .everyone. . . everyone else left. . ." _I think. I hope. I don't think so. No one's said. Someone would have said by now, wouldn't they?_

"But you stayed. . . with him . . ."

"Luka. . .I stayed to. . .drink. . ." So this was it? She thought they'd spent the last two weeks moving forward. Had they really just been going in one big circle? Were they doomed to run into the wall of what she'd done one stupid, drunk night over and over again? Never really get beyond it?

When he saw her face, the disappointment, the hurt, he closed his eyes. "Yeah. I'm. . .I'm tired. I need to go to bed." The drink. . . the drink. . .the drink. . .that had been more important than him. . .than her. . . than Joe. . .that's what it was. ..to be an alcoholic. . .that's what it was. . .

She nodded.

His feet were heavy on the steps.

Her hand swept the tears away. She picked up the phone. "Janet?"

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She found him lying in bed. His arm over his eyes. He was still awake.

"Maybe. . .maybe I got ahead of myself . . .ahead of us . . . telling everyone. But, I felt. . .I felt I had to tell, Luka. I have to do it right. I have to do it right this time. I have to be well, really well, for me, and for you, and for Joe. Maybe, maybe if someone else had known, they would have, they would have found a way to get me out of that bar. . .or would have stayed with me, made sure I got home. I can't screw up again. I don't want to screw up again. I have to make it as hard as I possibly can for myself to slip. It wasn't easy for me either. To stand in front of everyone and admit it. But I didn't. . .I didn't do it to hurt you. . .make it harder for you. I did it to make it harder for me. . .if that makes any sense. . .I love you. I don't want to hurt you any more. I don't want to hurt myself any more. . .or Joe. . .I just. . .I. . .want. . .I've always wanted. . .to be the wife you deserve to have. . .I've just. . .I've never known if I could be . . .sometimes I still don't know. . .but. . .I'm trying. . .I am. . .I'm trying to be. . .the best I can. Is it? Is it. . .going to be. . .enough for you?" She felt like she had when she'd told him about the hysterectomy. Awaiting his judgment. Feeling like she'd given her all, and failed him. . .failed them.

He had lifted his arm when she first started to speak. Watched her. She'd spent her life hiding. She'd hid from him. . .so many times. If she was going to stop hiding, he was going to have to make it safe for her to do that. What did he want? Part of her? Or all of her? What did she want from him? What had she seen and forgiven? Forgotten? Accepted? Understood? Never taking his eyes from hers, he propped himself on his elbow, lifted the covers for her to come in. She did so clothes and all. He pulled her into his arms and held on tight, tighter. She buried herself in him. Unsure. Was he taking her in? Or saying good-bye? Maybe, here in Chicago the reality of it all. . .maybe he _couldn't_ be married to a drunk. Even one he loved. Why did she never know with him? Why was she still waiting for him to leave? She had to stop doing that. She knew that. But, she had. She had for a while, and then he'd left any way, and she'd messed up. Ever since. . .it seemed at times too much to hope for. . .to get it all back again, let alone more. Even in moments like this, she didn't know. She didn't know how to believe that someone, any one, especially him, was going to love her through this. The worst of her. Exposed. For all to see. For him to see. To look at and examine and. . .reject. He pulled back to look at her. _Say something, Luka. Say something to me._ He started to undress her slowly. She was trembling. What was this? The last time? Or time to move forward, all the way forward? _Say something._ Ask him to say something. She wanted to know, and she didn't. Still too afraid. It couldn't be enough. _I can't be enough. Can I?_ He cupped her face in his hand. Looked at her. His wife. His beautiful, smart, sassy, courageous, funny, charming, sexy, damaged, frightened, loving, exasperating, endlessly surprising wife. In that moment, he understood. It wasn't enough to love her for those things. He had to love the addict in her too. That place in her that got so dark that she forgot love and him and everything but fear and pain and hurt and loneliness and anger and drink, that part of her that had traded herself for a few minutes of not feeling what was real because it hurt too much. The part of her that hated herself so much that she forgot what she was worth. What they were worth. He'd have to love that too. Otherwise he'd just feed it. Make it stronger in her with his fear, his disgust, his anger. If he could love it, he'd make _her_ stronger, t_hem_ stronger. They'd beat it. Her addiction. Her disease. They'd win. He had to believe that. He'd never leave her again. He'd help her, and they'd do it. They'd do it together. All of it. It wouldn't beat them. It couldn't. They wouldn't let it. The late evening light filtered through the window, but it felt like the middle of the night. He looked into her eyes. "You're beautiful." _But? What. . . what does that mean?__ What does that mean?_ She was pleading for answers with those eyes. She didn't know. She still didn't know?

"It's enough, Abby. . .it's more than enough. You. This. Us. It's what I want. I told you before that I would never let anything take this away, and I meant it. I won't. I love you. All of you."

She blinked back the tears, and even as she heard the words, it was in his eyes that she finally saw the answer. Maybe it was the answer that had always been there, waiting to be seen all along. "That's all I need to know."

How long had it been since they'd made love in this bed, their bed, their home? A long time. Some things in life were worth the wait . . . and the risk.

_Oh. . . tall, dark, handsome and mysterious._

_I thought someone told me that you were married._

_I can't believe I just did that._

_Of course, that makes two._

_You watch me when we make love._

_Because you know she needs your help, even if she doesn't want it._

_I like you in that hat._

_I forgot how pretty you are . ._

_You miss your kids. . ._

_You only have to sleep with me on the weekends._

_I tried to explain to her that I was just your roommate._

_I miss you, Abby._

_I'm glad you're back._

_For a long time, even when we weren't connecting a lot, you've been the one person I can count on._

_Do you really think we should be doing this?_

_I don't want everything we have to come down to this one decision._

_We have a great life together. I don't need a ring and a white dress to prove that I love you._

_I was running to you._

_Have you ever wanted something so much, but it scared the hell out of you?_

_We'll help each other when we need help._

_This is the wonder that keeps the stars apart . . .I carry your heart. . .I carry your heart in my heart._


	43. The Plank in Your Own Eye

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and your continued support and encouragement. I think you may be psychic, Fan

There's a bit in here I've wanted to write since Season 11. I thought that gave me PTSD – but after this season – really it wasn't sooo bad. Still.

The Plank in Your Own Eye

She awoke long before the alarm. Tossed and turned. Watched him sleep. Stared at the ceiling. Finally, she'd left him a note and headed for an early meeting close by. The first of sixty mandatory meetings. No problem. She was so lucky. So very lucky. By the time she got home, they were up. Joe was sitting in his high chair feasting on his father's eggs and handfuls of cheerios.

Luka smiled at her as she walked in. "Good timing. Yours are almost ready."

"My what?"

"Eggs."

"Eggs?"

"Eggs."

"I can't eat."

"You should eat. It's going to be a long day."

"I'm too nervous to eat." She slid behind him, wrapped an arm around him as he cooked. She could feel him lean back into her. They were still jet lagged. Back only two days. She couldn't ask for more time, and he had to get back to work himself.

"Please. . .try. It will be fine. They all know you. That's not going to change."

"I don't know. Sam was sort of weird."

"Sam? How?"

"She asked me if I ever drank at work."

"After the meeting?"

"At the end of it."

"In front of every one?"

"Sort of. And.. .I don't know. . .Some people were great. . .Greg and Haleh and Chuny. . .Neela. . .and some just looked at me. I'm sure Frank will have a comment or two."

"Who the hell cares what Frank says?"

"You were right. I shouldn't have told. It's too much. I can't do it. . ."

He turned to face her. "Then we'll do it together. I'll come in with you. . .and I'll beat up any one you want me to."

"Really?"

"Sure."

"Even the women?"

"If it comes to that."

"My hero."

He nodded. "Ketchup?"

"Oh, okay."

"Um. . .Abby?" He bit his lip.

"Yeah?"

"Today. . .today is Jasna's birthday. . .She would have been. . .she would have. . .been twenty-one. . ."

"Luka. . .really? Twenty-one? That's so hard to believe. . .you never. . .I've never known. . .their birthdays. . ."

"Yeah. . .well. . .time to stop pretending and hiding. Right?"

She smiled at him, wrapped her arms around him, rested her chin on his chest, gazed up at him. "Right. Do you want to do something? For her? Or for you?"

"Maybe. . ."

"We could light a candle tonight. . ."

"That would be nice."

"I think. . .I think she's going to help me today. . ."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to remember her. . .when I start feeling sorry for myself. . ._if_ I start feeling sorry for myself. . .if it seems too hard. . .not fair. . .I'm going to think of her. . .and remember how. . .how lucky I am."

"Abby?"

"Mmmm?"

"Thank you."

"No, thank you for telling me." For telling me all of it. "We'll get through today."

"Together."

"Together."

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They held hands as they walked through the doors. When that became awkward, he slipped a hand on her shoulder. He had her back.

Eyes followed them as they rounded the desk on the way to the locker room.

Greg approached them. "Hey, Luka. . .Abby. Great to see you guys. Luka, I'm sorry about your Dad."

"Thanks, Greg." They looked at each other briefly before they hugged, then he turned to Abby for a hug.

"Hey, Abby. . .you look terrific. Big guy been taking care of you?"

She nodded, smiled. Felt like she'd lost her voice. "Yeah. . ."

"How'd you like Croatia?"

"Beautiful. . .It was . .. great. . .Listen I better get changed. Don't want to be late my first day."

"See you on the floor. Luka, when are you coming back?"

"Don't know. Who am I even supposed to talk to about that these days?"

"Honestly, I don't know. These people don't know what the hell they're doing. . ."

Sam walked by, glanced at them but said nothing and continued on.

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Luka poured himself a cup of coffee, rubbed his neck. This wasn't easy. Some smiles and hugs for sure. But also stares. Polite questions. No questions. Curious looks. He was glad he was here for her. She'd told him things were much better than she'd thought, feared. Except for Sam who seemed determined to carry a chip on her shoulder, question her orders, shut down her overtures. Abby couldn't understand the intensity of her reaction and frankly neither could he.

Sam walked in, glanced at him briefly without acknowledging him and poured herself a cup of coffee, then made to leave the room. What the fuck was her problem?

"Sam?"

She turned at the door.

"Yeah?"

"You have some sort of problem with me? With Abby?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Look, Luka, I'm sorry about your father and everything, but if she was drinking on the job, she risked the lives of her patients as well as the licenses of those of us who were taking orders from a. . .from someone under the influence. She had no business. . .coming to work if she was drinking. . ."

"I see."

"You see?"

"You're a nurse Sam, you are familiar with the disease of alcoholism I assume?"

"I'm familiar with doing my job the best way I can. How _could_ you? How could you let her work like that?"

He was angry. Trying to control it. As if she knew one damn thing about what had been going on. . .with him. . .and Abby. "And you know. . .you _know._ . .all about it. . .what happened. . .?"

"No. . . but I assume if she was bad enough to end up in rehab that you knew she was drinking, drinking a lot. You should have stopped her from working."

"I see. You know. . you know. . .what I. . ." He was furious, seeing red. "And you. . .you have every right . . . based on the little you know. . .to judge Abby. . to judge me. . .because you never. . .you _never_. . .let your personal issues. . .affect your work. . .Your _crap_. . .never affected any of your patients. . .hurt them? Killed them? _Never_ put any one else's career at risk? _Never_ had any one cover for you? Is that what you're telling me, Sam? Because if it is. . . your memory is a hell of a lot shorter than mine. At least Abby had the courage to admit it. . .and get help. Excuse me." He brushed past her on his way out. She stood rooted to the floor. Louise.

"Hey. . .you okay?" Abby caught him flying out of the break room.

"Yeah. . .yeah. . .fine. . .just. . .fine. You?" He ran a hand through his hair.

She smiled. "If that's fine, I'm great."

"I'll tell you at home."

"Okay. You going to head out?"

"No, I'm still trying to figure out who to talk to about starting back. Greg's the interim Chief for the interim Chief, he's not sure he can make the call. We're supposed to meet with Anspaugh in an hour."

"Good. . .good . . .I'm sure it will be fine. We need you. It's nuts."

He pulled her out of the way. "You really okay?"

"Yeah. . .It's weird. . .but I can't let it get to me. I'm a good doctor. I'm doing my job. I'm following through with treatment. It happened. I have to live with it. But it's not going to define me, not any where in my life."

"Good girl."

"Woman."

"Woman."

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"Hey, you"

"Neela. . .it's good to see you." The two women hugged.

"I heard you were down here."

"It's been just crazy since we got back. Do you have time for coffee?"

"Great."

They sipped their coffee while making their way back from the Jumbo Mart.

"So how are you, Abby? Really?

"Better. . .good. . .most of the time. It was really weird to be back here today. Luka came in with me."

"Aw that's sweet. When's he coming back to work?"

"He's in a meeting now. Soon I hope. I just want. . .things back to normal."

"I bet."

"I'm sorry I never told you."

"I'm sorry you felt you couldn't."

"It wasn't that. It wasn't you. It was me. I never told anyone . . .well anyone I didn't have to, to work the program. But then, I stopped working the program . . .and. . .things went down hill."

"I would have tried to help."

"I know. . .I know. . .I just. . .I never liked people to know that about me - I just I felt like it would be all they would be able to see if they knew. And I. . . I just. . .I hate that part of me. . .which is probably part of the problem. And maybe. . .maybe it was like if I didn't talk about it. . .I wouldn't have to deal with it. . .in certain ways anyway. It's really. . .it's just a lot of stuff. . .and I don't want to be in 'cry me a river' mode today. I'm just. . .I'm doing things differently now. I'm lucky. I'm very lucky. I love my work and my husband and my son, and my friends. And, I'm very, very lucky."

"I'm glad, Abby. I'm proud of you. It's not easy what you're doing."

"Thanks, Neela. . .thanks for being here."

"How are things with Luka?" He'd seemed so sad that day she'd bumped into him. . . after finding Abby.

"Things are. . .good. I mean it's been. . .we're getting through it." She took a deep breath.

"I'm glad, Abby. I know how much you love him."

"I do."

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He snuck up behind her, whispered in her ear. "So, I have a job."

She turned to face him, smiling. "Of course you do."

"Night janitor."

"Luka. . ."

"I'm kidding. But of course, cut in pay."

"Well, you're not Chief."

"Nope. So, want to go out to dinner to celebrate?"

"Oh. . .I'm just. . .I'm wiped. Rain check? Unless? . .I mean unless it's important to you. . .to go out. . .today. . .because it's. . ."

"No. . .no, it's fine. Lets go home and be with Joe."

"Why don't you go home? I'll meet you there. I'm fine. I've got it. Sam even stopped giving me dirty looks. Can you imagine why?"

"Me? No. Can't imagine." He gave her a look of faux innocence.

"Hmmm. See you at home." She tugged on his tie and bent and gave her a kiss.

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Morris caught him on his way out, keeping pace with Luka's long strides. "Hey big guy. . .sorry about your Dad. . .and your wife. . .tough times. . .an alcoholic . . .boy. . .my aunt. . .oh it wasn't pretty . . .my uncle had a hard time of it. I feel for you man, _but._ . .but then. . .again. . .new era. It's very. . .cool. . .to go to rehab now. . .look at Britney. . .Lindsay . . ."

Luka stopped cold at that and shot him a look of death, cringed as Morris put his hand on his shoulder.

He began to brush imaginary lint from Luka's shoulder. "Okay. . .bad. . .examples. . .just saying. . .if you want to tell me the whole story. . .the rumor mill stops here. . .I'll keep things on the up and up. How long was it going on? You can tell me. Cause I mean. . .I didn't know. . .couldn't tell. . ."

Luka shook his head. "Don't. Follow. Me." Turned and walked away.

"Just. . .just trying to say - Hey, man I'm here for you if you ever need to talk. No, seriously, Luka. . .I'm here. . .we're brothers. . .ER brothers. . .Come back. . .I just want to help. . .Luka?"

Luka kept walking, tossed over his shoulder, "I'm trying not to hurt you, Morris. . ."

"Okay. . .good. . . good. . .I can work with that. . . I'm here. . .for you. . .Let the anger out man. . ."

Greg walked up. "What the hell you doing? Shut up man."

"I'm just trying to help."

"Then just. . .be cool. . .let the man be. . ."

"Oh right. . . cool. . .Did he tell you anything?"

"Shut up, Morris."

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She was almost to the doors when Sam hailed her. "Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have a minute?"

"Sure."

"I'm. . .I'm glad you're getting help. . .that you got help. . .that you're doing better."

"Thanks."

"I've been. . .pretty rude to you. . .It's complicated."

"Most things are."

"Yeah."

Abby smiled at her, nodded her head. "Night, Sam."

"Night."

Abby pulled herself up short. She had an errand, and she wanted to get home. But. . ."Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry that my drinking affected you. If you want to talk some time. . .about. . .I don't know. . .what makes it hard for you. . .or what. . .you felt finding out about my drinking. . .we could do that."

"Thanks, Abby. When I figure it out. . .more myself. . .maybe we could do that."

"Okay. Have a good night."

"See ya. Oh, Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you tell Luka. . . ? Never mind, I'll tell him myself later."

"Okay."

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When she got home, the table was set with candles, dinner was cooking, Joe was running around the living room, bathed and in pajamas.

She scooped him up. "You smell good. . ." She carried him into the kitchen to get a kiss from Luka. "You don't smell bad either. What are you making?"

"Pasta Primavera. Yummy noodles, Joe." He gave her a taste from the spoon.

"Mmmm"

After they ate, Abby cleaned up and Luka played with Joe, then she brought a small package out of her purse and gave it to him. "I have something for you. For today. Joe? You want to help Daddy open it?"

Joe's little hands pulled at the paper, and Luka's large ones finished the job. "A picture frame?"

"I thought. . .I don't know if you want to. . .but if you want. . .you could put the picture of Danijela and Jasna in it. . .and we could put them. . .with the other photos. . .only if you want. . ."

Luka bit his lip and leaned over to kiss her. "That. . . that would be nice. . ." He smiled at her, looked at her with eyes so full. . .of everything. . . she thought her heart would break. "How about a story, Joe? Do you want to hear a story?" Joe nodded that he did. So, Luka began, "Once upon a time. . .there was a beautiful little girl. . .and her name was Jasna. And, Jasna lived in Croatia. . remember Croatia, Joe? And she lived with her mother and her father and a little brother, named Marko. . ."


	44. No One

AN: While I am familiar with passport turn around time, I'm not exactly sure how long Abby's name change would take. However, it makes for a nice moment IMO in this chap – so let's pretend. : )

This one is just for fun. Finally!

If you liked chapter four, you should enjoy this one.

No One

The alarm sounded. Luka's hand hit the silencer. He rolled over. She was still asleep. Hmmm. He rolled towards her, nuzzled into her neck. She started to stir. He pressed in closer. Slid his hand over her belly, down her thighs. Started lacing her neck with kisses.

"Luka . . . . ."

"Yessss?"

"You have an early shift."

"I know."

"I don't."

"I know."

He wasn't to be deterred, small kisses down along the rim of her tank, a hand at the ridge of the material, sliding underneath and up. Well, there were worse ways to wake-up. She smiled, arched into him.

"Taaaaataaaaa. . . . . .Maaaaammmmaaaaaa"

"No . . .no. . . no . .no . . . " Luka lifted his head to whine plaintively, then let it fall onto her belly.

"Taaaattaaaaa . . . . . . . . ."

"Coming, Joe." He lifted his head to look at her sadly.

She smiled at him through hazy eyes. "Rain check?"

"Isn't tonight. . .?"

"Date night." She smiled.

"MaaaaaaaMAAAAA"

"I'll go." Luka rolled away from her and walked out of the room. "Coming, Joe . . ."

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Carter walked through the automatic doors. It was different. Unbelievably. Again. How many times were they going to remodel this place? Reconfigure it into yet another dump. He looked at the patients in chairs. Some things never changed. No matter how much you wanted them to. He walked up to the window. An unfamiliar face. "Hi. Is Dr. Kovac working today?"

"Which one?"

"What do you mean, which one?"

"I mean Mr. or Mrs., tall guy or short woman, Croatian or American. Which one?"

His eyebrows went up. Not only did they get married, she had taken his name. "Mr., tall one, Croat . .."

"That's too bad, because he's in a trauma and the other one is coming up right behind you."

Carter turned around. Sure enough. There she was. Coffee cup in one hand, sunglasses coming off into the other. Huge purse on one shoulder. Her hair was different. It looked nice. She looked good. He smiled.

She didn't see him right away. She was almost through the security doors when she heard her name. "Abby."

"Carter?" She was surprised, walked towards him, smiled and hugged him, stepping back a little awkwardly to appraise him. "What are you doing here? Come on back. Have you seen Luka?"

"No. . .no haven't seen anyone. Just got here."

She nodded toward security. "He's with me." They walked through to more familiar territory. That was the last thing they said to each other for a long time as Carter made the rounds, hugging, greeting, filling-in, updating, looking at pictures, sharing a few of his own."

Abby stuck her head into the trauma yellow, saw Luka up to his elbows in blood. "Hey."

He glanced at her briefly, and then went back to his work. "Hey."

"Carter's here."

"What?" He looked up again. "Another 0-chromic. Where?" He put out his hand, and Sam smacked the waiting needle driver into it smartly.

"Desk. When you get time."

Luka nodded. "Suction"

"Need a hand."

"No, I got it. Check the board."

"Right." The door closed behind Abby.

Sam glanced at Luka. "Dr. Carter's back from Africa. Wow. You guys were good friends. Weren't you?"

Luka nodded. "Yeah. Scissors. He'll need four-by-fours and a pressure dressing." Things had returned to normal between them. He had apologized for speaking in anger, and she had apologized for by-passing his orders with Louise. She'd told him he had made her think about some things, that maybe it was time she got some help dealing with the issues of her own life too.

Sam glanced at him. "And didn't Abby and Dr. Carter used to go out?"

Luka snapped off his gloves. "Yeah."

"Was that before or after you two dated the first time?"

He launched his gloves at the garbage bin in the corner. "After."

Sam smiled at him. "Oh, rebound guy, huh?"

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Luka tracked him down when he could. "Hey, Carter."

The men gave each other a bear-hug of welcome.

"Luka. Congratulations about the baby. . .Joe I mean. And Abby and everything."

Luka nodded smiling. "Yeah, thanks. What are you doing here?"

"Joshua Carter Center opening. Almost ready. Last details."

Luka nodded. "That's great. How's Kem?"

"She's great. Stuck with work right now. You . . .wouldn't be free for dinner tonight? I'm not sure what my schedule's going to look like for the rest of the week. We could catch-up."

"Sure that would be great. Abby and I have reservations. I'll just call and add one more."

"Oh. . .I don't want to intrude."

"No problem."

"Well, if you're sure."

"I'm sure. I'm almost done here. Then I'm going to pick up Joe, take him to the park for a while. The sitter will meet me there and take him home, and I'll catch up with you and Abby."

"Sounds great."

Luka smiled and nodded, hands on his hips. It was a plan.

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"What?" Abby spoke into her cell phone. Luka had called from the park to update her since she'd been stuck in radiology with a patient when he left. "He's coming on our date?"

"Well. . .we can go another night. . .just us."

"Don't you remember how hard it was to carve out this night? Sixty meetings in sixty days Luka . . .and work . . .and Joe. . .and stuff. . .I went to a meeting before work when I could have been with Joe - so we could be alone." The grind was getting to her. It was day 50 and trying to juggle everything had been a struggle. It was one thing to work the program daily, and another thing to have the hoops to jump through for work. She'd had another random test that very day. Just another reminder what she'd risked and almost lost, and while she had to remember, had to work, sometimes it all made her feel like that was all she was. An alcoholic. She had so wanted, needed a romantic evening with her husband. To just forget for a couple of hours. To feel like a wife and a lover, not just a recovering alcoholic, lucky to have a job, and a husband, and a life. Just a small window of fantasy. Was that wrong?

"I'm sorry. . .I just thought. . .I thought you'd want . . .That it would be nice. . .Do you want me to cancel?"

She sighed, "No. . . no. . .never mind." She'd just have to defer fantasy a little longer. Maybe it was for the best. "It's fine. I'll survive. But you owe me."

"Have you thought about what sort of payment you might. . .want. . .?"

"No. . .not yet. . ."

"Well. . .I'm willing to make it up to you. . ."

"Are you?"

"Mmmmhmmm"

"Well then. . .maybe. . .I'll forgive you. . ."

"I hope so."

"So, the sitter will pick Joe up. You'll have to give her your car seat."

"No problem. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah."

"Abby?"

"Yes."

"I can't wait to make it up to you. . ."

"You don't even know what I'm going to make you do. . ."

"Doesn't matter. . ."

She smiled. "Gotta go. See you soon."

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"Sorry I'm late." Carter was waiting at their booth when she arrived.

"No problem." He stood briefly, as she took off coat, unloaded her bag and sat down. He stared at her. She looked good. Despite what had happened. "How are you, Abby?"

"You heard?" Who? Haleh? Probably not. Chuny? Could be. Morris? Ass.

"Yes."

She shook her head. The waitress appeared. "I'm Alexis, I'll be your waitress this evening. What can I get you?"

"Iced tea," Abby spoke.

"Make it two."

"Actually, make it three. My husband will be here soon."

She nodded and left.

Carter smiled to himself. "Alexis. I wonder if she drives a Lexus. . ."

Abby stared at him as if he were crazy. "What?"

"Remember. . .Alexis. . .Richard's date. . .the benefit . . .the tire. . .long time ago. . ."

"Oh . . .oh. . . oh. . .that. . .yeah. . .Not one of my finer moments.

He shrugged. "I don't know. It was fun."

"And childish."

"Yeah. . .I guess. . .So? You want to talk about it?"

"About my relapse?"

"Yeah."

"Luka had to be in Croatia to take care of his father. I'd stopped working the program probably at least a year before that. No, really more than that. Felt too good. Didn't have time. It wasn't going to be a problem again. You know, the usual excuses. I got depressed with him gone, started thinking more and more like an addict. I started drinking, and I couldn't stop. I almost ruined my career. My marriage. Could have hurt my son. I checked myself into rehab. I'm well. I'm going to stay that way. End of story."

He raised his eyebrows. "Wow. I see. And Luka?"

"What about him?"

"What's he think of all. . .this?"

"Oh, he was thrilled, Carter."

"Abby. . ."

"What do you want me to say? How do you think he felt?"

"I'm. . .sorry. . .I'm prying."

"Yes. You are. We're fine. . .We're good. He's an amazing man, and I'm lucky to have him."

"I'm glad, Abby that things are working out for you. . .for both of you. . .I'm just sorry. . .it happened."

"But you're not surprised." How could he always do this to her? Make her feel like nothing more than a drunk. A disaster waiting to happen. Come on, Abby. Don't fall into that. . .that thing you do with him . . .where you're never quite up to snuff. The one with all the problems. Don't go there.

"Surprised?"

Suddenly her face softened. A light came into her eyes, a glow. Her eyes were tracking someone. He didn't have to look to know who it was. He remembered the look. This was just an intensified version of it. But he looked anyway. Why not? It no longer rankled. Did it? Carter turned. Luka. Abby slid out of her seat to greet him. He placed a hand on her hip and gave her a kiss. She smiled up at him. He turned to extend his hand to Carter, then he slid into the booth and Abby followed.

"Hey you two - been catching up?"

Abby looked at Carter, cocked her head. Turned to Luka. "Yup, just catching up."

The conversation turned then - to work, Joe, Kem, dinner, Kem, politics, Kerry, Ray, Kem, Pratt, Morris, etc, etc, etc.

Alexis came by with the dessert cart. She gave a nice presentation for each, all the while staring at Luka a little more than necessary. Flashing white teeth. And oops she dropped something_. Is she showing off her cleavage to my husband?_ It was annoying enough to catch women at a distance flirting with him. _But right in front of me?_ She picked up her fork like a weapon and felt Luka's hand cover hers. _This woman picked the wrong night to mess with me._ Her date night had been hijacked, she'd had to endure Carter's look of "I knew this would happen", she'd had to listen about the wonder that was Kem just a little longer than any human being should have to, and now the waitress was flirting with her husband. It was too much. His hand squeezed hers, and she glanced at him, he shook his head "no. Abby looked at him for a moment, fork still clutched tightly, then she shrugged at him. Released it. Told Alexis that she'd share the chocolate cake with her husband, and that they liked a lot of whipped cream thank you very much, and turned back to Carter and the endless fascination that was Kem and the Congo.

Abby's eyes began to glaze over. She knew she should pay attention. Be interested. After all, humanitarian work in Africa was important. Significant. Of value. But then again, this was her date night. Did you know? Her. Date. Night. Between AA meetings, work schedules, and Joe this was precious time. And here they were. Catching up on Africa. And the Joshua Carter Center. And Kem. Hmmm. . .Luka didn't seem to mind. Why was that? Men. Horny one minute. Didn't care if you missed your date night the next. Hmmmm. Abby looked at Luka. He had the big 'here's-Carter-my-very-best-friend-who-saved-my-life-in-the-Congo-where-we-had-male-bonding-adventures-despite-years-of-disdain-and-contempt-from-him-for-no-good-reason-other-than-petty-jealousy-and-one-up-man-ship' smile on his face. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to the buddy-buddy thing that had developed between the two of them since Luka's near death. On the other hand, she owed Carter too. If he hadn't gone back. . .Well, that thought was unthinkable. And then there was her medical school tuition. Yes, she should be grateful for a lot of things. Mostly, she should be grateful her husband had a generous and forgiving nature. If it extended beyond her, that was just reason to love him more. She looked at him and a wave of emotion surged through her. She wanted nothing more than to be alone with him. Show him how she felt. How glad she was that he was here. And forgiving. And. . .and. . .she ached for him. Wasn't he feeling just the least bit achy? If he was, he had a good poker face. Too good. She slipped her shoe off under the table. Slid a toe over, began to edge it up Luka's leg. He glanced at her, stroked her arm absently with his hand.

"Angelique still there. . .?"

"Oh yeah, I don't think she'll ever leave. . ."

Yada, yada, yada. Up and down with the toe, pressure on his foot. Up a little further. Rather unsatisfying. He'd draped his arm around her and was making small circles on her arm. Is that it? Don't you want to tear my clothes off too? Too bad he wasn't across the way. Still there was the tablecloth. Hmmm. She put her hand on his knee. He shifted it closer to her. She started moving her fingers lightly, up and down, long strokes and small circles. His fingers began drumming on the table. He glanced at her. Gave her a curious smile. She could tell he wasn't sure if he really wanted to encourage her, but he didn't have much interest in stopping her either. Torn between his 'buddy' and getting laid sooner rather than later.

Luka picked up his spoon and began to play with it. "And Gillian?"

That did it. She struck with precision.

Luka caught his breath and began to cough. The spoon clattered to the floor.

"You okay?"

"Wrong pipe."

"You didn't eat anything."

Luka started sipping his water, gently pinched her arm in warning. This time, she wasn't to be deterred.

"Yes. . ." She smiled sweetly. "How is Gillian?"

"Good. Still. . .a favorite. . .with . . .everyone. She comes twice a year for a few weeks. I told her about you two and Joe. She sends her best." That had been an interesting conversation.

_"I knew it." Gillian's eyes sparked._

_"Knew what?"_

_"That there was something there." She took a long drag from her cigarette._

_"You did?"_

_"I saw. I have eyes."_

_"You saw them together? When?"_

_"That first time I was there, she came to see him in the hospital, and then at his place. She was coming as I was going."_

_"Really?"_

_She'd forgotten. Carter and Abby. Backtracking. "I had invited her for dinner . . ." Always better to assess your competition face-to-face so you know what you're up against. Of course it hadn't worked out that way, and it had turned out there was more competition than Abby. "Sorry. You're better off. I have to say, when I went back, I was surprised by that little nurse. I had thought. . .he and Abby would. . . but then again . . ." _

_"What?"_

_"If it had been Abby, he would have told me not to come. Wouldn't he?" She appraised Carter. Had he known even when he was with Abby? Was that what had been the friction between them when she'd first met them?_

_"I imagine he would have. I guess it took some time, but they figured it out."_

_She sighed. "I guess they did. Give Luka my. . .best next time you talk to him." She shrugged. "Oh, and Abby too. I'm glad he has a son." Her voice was clipped. She stubbed out her cigarette, and walked away._

Abby smiled and nodded, as she 'punished' her husband covertly. Stealth was a wonderful thing she mused. She had warned him there'd be a price after all.

Carter looked concerned. "Luka, are you feeling okay?"

"Ummm yeah. . .great. Why?"

"Your napkin."

Luka was clutching his napkin. Tightly. He glanced down at his own hand as if he was surprised by its activity. "Oh yeah. Nervous habit. How's Kem?"

"I told you. Before. Fine. She'd be here but she's in a crucial phase of her clinical trials now."

"Oh yeah. . .yeah. . .sorry. And her study?"

"Luka?"

"Yeah?"

"Been a long day?"

"Long, hard day, dear?" Abby looked at him, suppressing a smile.

He shook his head at her, gaping his mouth, har, har, har, then under his breath, "Very . . .hard."

She was shaking with suppressed laughter looking at his face. Took mercy on him, but it was too late.

Carter's eyes shifted from one of them to the other. He felt like odd man out of a private joke. "I should let you two get home, but I'll be around all week. We'll find more time?"

"That would be great." Luka looked at him, smiled.

"Yes." Abby echoed. "Great. I'm on tomorrow. Come grab me for lunch if you have time." Why did she say that? Unfinished business.

"Great."

Abby picked up her purse, looked at Luka. He wasn't moving. He looked at her pointedly. "Hand me my coat. Would you?"

"Oh yeah. . .sure. . .hang on." She dangled it teasingly in front of him. Saucy smile.

He grabbed it and gave her a dirty look. He held it awkwardly in front of himself as he stood and followed Carter and Abby toward the door. Carter turned around at the entrance to wait for him.

"Your leg okay?"

"My. . .my leg?"

"Yeah, you're kind of walking funny."

Abby burst out laughing. Carter looked at her sideways. She shook her head, waved her hand. "There was this guy. . .outside. . .funny. . .hair."

"Your leg?"

"Bursitis. " Luka said.

Abby laughed again. Carter stared at her. "Same guy. Funny hair."

Carter looked at them back and forth. Okay. "I'm just . . .I'm going to make a pit stop before I head home. Really. . .great. . .to see you both."

Oh shit, he's going to hug me. Luka shoved Abby forward into a surprised Carter's embrace. When the hug ended, he stuck out his hand, shook Carter's. "See you soon. Abby, we should go." And like a naughty child, he took her by the arm and steered her out of the restaurant, her feet doing double time to keep up with him while Carter watched them go, a confused look on his face.

"You are in big trouble," he hissed in her ear, feigning anger.

"Oh. . .you loved it. . ."

"Not as much as you're going to love it." He propelled her up the block quickly.

He pushed the door unlock button on the car and the SUV sprang to life. She put out her hand to open the front passenger door.

He put his hand on the door to block her from opening it. "Oh noooo you don't."

"What? Don't you want to get home?"

"You think I'm driving all the way home like this. Back seat. Now." He nodded his head toward the car. Attempting to look stern with her. It wasn't working.

She looked up at him. "You're kidding."

"No. . .I'm not kidding. Look at me." He glanced around, dropped the coat.

Abby gasped. Oh my. She bit her lip. "Sorry. I didn't mean. . ."

"Yeah well, if you can't stand the heat, you should stay out of the oven."

"Kitchen."

"Whatever. In you go." He opened the back door. This was why God made tinted windows.

She turned around to look at him before she got in, smiled, grabbed hold of his tie to pull him in after her. "I think I like the oven."

"Yeah well. . .the oven's pretty glad to see you too." He couldn't suppress his grin any longer. He followed her in, and shut the door behind them.

"Luka?"

His mouth was on her neck, his hands fumbling, he couldn't move fast enough. "Yes?"

"New rule."

"Rule?"

"Don't mess with date nights."

Fumbling, urgent. "Good rule." He brought his mouth down on hers.

Carter came out of the restaurant. Took a deep breath. Brisk air. It felt good. Reinvigorating. Started to walk up the street. Saw the SUV with the Croatian flag on the windshield. Must be Luka's car. Funny they're still here. They seemed in such a hurry too. Oh well. He'd need to look for a cab. Was it? No. Couldn't be. Must be his imagination. Why would Luka's car be rocking?


	45. Ah Yes, I Remember It Well

Ah Yes, I Remember It Well

Carter did grab her for lunch. They bought hot dogs and strolled along the river. Like old times.

"You know these will kill you," he said looking down at their lunch.

"Yeah, so will pestilence, famine, plague and war, but that doesn't seem to bother you."

He smiled. Abby. There was something about her. He guessed there always would be. "Interesting bracelet. I noticed it last night."

She looked down at the large silver band on her wrist. "Luka gave it to me for my birthday. It's from Croatia. We spent a couple of weeks there in January." 

"It's nice."

They'd made enough small talk. She looked at him sideways. "I think I owe you an apology for last night."

"You do?"

"I was. . .defensive. . .about my relapse."

"Well. . .maybe I was. . .too nosy. . .it's just. . .you helped me. . .you were there for me when I was in trouble, and I'd hoped. . .other things for you. If you can relapse, it could be me."

"But it hasn't been."

"No."

"You work the program?"

"In my own way."

_"Carter_."

"What? It works for me. I'm good."

"Well. . .yeah, I guess I'm no shining example. But me, I need to work it every day. When I stop, it just. . .it doesn't work."

"I just. . .I think I needed a mission in my life."

"Other than me?"

"Ouch. Is that what you think you were?"

"You did once throw me over your shoulder in an attempt to haul me to an AA meeting. I think mission may have had something to do with it." That and one-upping Luka, but we don't have to talk about that part.

"My mission? Hmmmm. I cared about you, Abby."

"I know. I cared about you too. That doesn't mean. . ."

"I wasn't on a mission. . ."

"Something like that."

"And what were you on?"

She raised her eyebrows.

He cringed. She had been a relapsed addict with all that went along with that. _I drink because I'm happy. I'm happy with you._ As if. . .he winced at the memory. "Don't answer that."

She smiled. "Well. . .I never made amends to you after my last relapse. So, maybe you'll have to leave me a phone number, and I'll catch you this time."

He shook his head. "You don't owe me amends. I think we're even. We. . .were. . .both sort of a mess."

"I think they call it enabling."

"No. . .you think? Because I once saw a picture of the two of us in a dictionary next to the word."

"Sarcasm is the abuse of the intellect, Carter."

"That would explain why _you_ are so good at it."

She laughed. "Oh low. Well, at least we can laugh about it."

"You're the only one I see laughing." 

Yeah, you're just smirking. "Oh, come _on_. . .you can laugh about it now. . .Seriously. Worst moment. You name it."

"Had to be your. . .your brother falling into Gamma's grave."

"Oh man. . .that was bad. . .but I think renting out a restaurant. . .and then chickening out of a proposal is. . .close."

"Close. . .but really no competition."

"Shouting on a rooftop?"

"Hey, that was sweet."

"It's only sweet if you follow through, otherwise it's just. . ."

"What?"

"Annoying and overly-dramatic."

"Overly-dramatic? No, still not close. Grave crashing is definitely more dramatic."

"Maybe. Line Dancing?"

"You did that too."

"Dumping me in a letter where there was some mention of 'running out of kerosene'."

He grimaced. "Very. . .very close." He held up his fingers. "If there hadn't been the peeing by the tree part. . .you might have me. And you did make me give your key back and hang that baggy on my locker first."

"I think considering after a year - all your stuff fit in a baggy - that's the bigger problem."

"And I don't think you were missing much stuff yourself. . ."

"So what? You win?"

"I think we both ended up winning. But you don't owe me amends. We're square." 

"I was not a very good girlfriend. I am sorry for the ways I hurt you."

"No, Abby. I was wrong to start things with us the way I did."

"Well. . .it's hard to beat the romantic atmosphere of a locked down hospital. . .and deadly disease." She shook her head. Stop hiding. "I was afraid. I was afraid of a lot of things then, and you. . .you wanted to help me. . .rescue me. It didn't come from a bad place. I know that." Misguided, definitely. 

"Abby. . ."

"Sorry. I'm sorry. You're trying to apologize, and I'm getting in the way."

"I'm sorry, Abby."

"I accept your apology."

"I accept yours too. You really think I was on a mission?" 

"I think you wanted to save me."

"But I couldn't?"

"No, of course not."

"And Luka?"

"What?"

"Did he save you?"

"Of course not, Carter. I destroyed myself, I had to save myself. That's the only way it works. But he. . .he. . ."

"Yes?"

"He loves me. It helps. It helps a lot."

Carter nodded. Took her in. Her life. The life he hadn't wanted. The roller coaster that seemed too high, too fast, too many curves, too many steep drops. . .Things Luka seemed to crave. . .at least in the Congo. . .maybe in Chicago too, come to think of it. He smiled, nodded, convinced. Things worked out the way they were supposed to. She was good, and he was glad. Time to change the subject. The past was the past. They both had a present. "You're a mother." He shook his head.

"Yeah. . .Joe is great. You have to come by the apartment and meet him. He's almost two. . .and he's just. . .he's wonderful."

Carter nodded.

"And you and Kem? You seem really happy from everything you said last night." On and on and on.

"We're. . . we. . .we're trying to get pregnant again."

"Really? That's great. You'll be a great dad, Carter."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do."

"And you and Luka?. . .That's good obviously."

"Obviously?"

"How stupid do you think I am?"

She shook her head innocently.

"You might want to tell Luka."

"Tell him what?"

"That your SUV needs new shocks."

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"So, did you catch up with Carter today?"

Luka was getting dressed, heading out for his night shift. Joe played on the bed in his PJs next to Abby. "I did. We had hot dogs and a talk."

"Yes? What did you talk about?" 

"The worst moments of our relationship."

He paused to give her a look. "You did not."

"Well, not the whole time. Although, we probably could have, if we'd wanted to."

"Abby. . ."

"It's good. I mean. He's happy. I'm happy. It's good."

"Good." He started to head for the bathroom. Stopped. Turned back. Opened his mouth twice before he spoke, searching for the nonchalance he couldn't bring himself to feel. "Are you seeing him tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? No. I don't think so. Why?" He had that sound in his voice. That funny, searching sound.

"Just wondering."

"Oh. . ."

"What?"

"Nothing. . .Does it bother you?" Was he? He wasn't? Jealous?

"What?"

"That I had lunch with Carter."

"No. Of course not." He started to turn then stopped and looked at her again. "Should it bother me?"

"No."

"Good."

"I did tell him he should come and meet Joe."

He'd started to walk away yet again, but he was back. "Did you? Because I'd like to see him again. You know catch-up more." Still struggling to sound like he didn't care.

"So. . .I should be sure you're home when he does that . . . you know so you can see him again?" It was touching. Gone was the hard, cold accusation of real doubt. It was the Luka from. . .before. It was the jealousy of a man who knew in his heart he didn't need to be, even as he wanted to protect what was his. It made her smile. As if. Be gentle. Be kind. Be amused. Be very amused, but don't let him see that you know.

"Exactly." He disappeared in to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

"Exactly. Joe, your Daddy is a silly man. Can you say that, Joe? Silly Daddy."

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"Carter called. He's free tonight. I invited him for dinner if that's okay with you?"

Abby looked up from her book, curled up on the sofa. "Sure. What are you cooking?"

"Don't know. What do you think?"

"I recommend the lamb gruel. I think Carter should get a taste of Croatia."

"You think he'd like it?"

"You thought I would like it?"

"You don't like it? Then why do you want me to cook it?"

"I like it . . .in an ethnic sort of way."

"What's that mean?"

"I don't know. . .It's like it's your history. . .so it's good . . .I just think it would be good for him to experience it. . .I'm sure he's used to all sorts of fare these days." 

"If you say so. So, you think he's doing okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. He talked an awful lot about Kem."

"You noticed that too."

Luka shrugged. 

Abby put down her book. "Doesn't that mean he's happy?"

"Because he talked a lot about her?"

"Yeah."

"If you're happy, you don't keep talking about it."

"You don't?"

"No. Why would you?"

"I don't know. . .to share your. . .joy?"

"Maybe."

"You wouldn't talk about me to Carter if I wasn't there?"

"No. . .not really."

"Oh."

"Well, what would I say? He knows you're a great doctor. I could talk about that - but wouldn't it be sort of annoying?"

"Well you could be more personal. Although. . .I guess I haven't given you much to brag about."

"Abby. What would I say? She's so hot. . .we got it on in the backseat of our car after dinner the other night?"

Abby shrugged. "Maybe."

"I would not. Or she makes me laugh so hard, coffee almost came out of my nose the other morning. . ."

"Well you _could_. . ."

He gave her a look. "No. . .The good stuff is too personal."

"And the bad?"

"Too personal."

"So you say. . ."

"Very little."

"So, you think if he's talking a lot it's a bad sign?"

"Only if he's trying to prove something."

"Hmmm. Well, it's different with women." 

"Is it?"

"Yes. We'll talk when it's good _o_r bad. . .unless. . ."

"Unless?"

"Unless it's bad, but we want our friends to think it's good, or if it's good, but we don't want to make it sound _too_ good . . .but we still talk."

"Well then, how do you know if it's really bad or really good?"

"Body language."

"Oh. . .So you talk about me?"

"Maybe."

"To who?"

"Sometimes to Neela. . ."

"I see, and what do you say."

She grinned. "I say he's _so hot_, we got it on in the backseat of our car after we had dinner with Carter . . ."

"Abby. . ."

"I'm kidding. . .sort of. . .What? You should be proud. I think that they're good. . . Carter and Kem. He told me they're trying to have a baby."

"Really? That's good. Then I'm wrong."

"You? Wrong?"

"It happens."

"Maybe he's trying to prove something to you."

"What?"

"That he won."

"Won?"

"Got the better wife."

"You don't really think that."

"I think it's possible."

"Well, it's not true."

"No?"

"No." He came over to her, kissed her, looked her in the eyes. "I won."

"No. . . I won. . ." She curled her hands around his neck, ran her fingers up through his hair.

"So, if I take you right here and now - is Neela going to hear about it tomorrow?"

"Depends. . ."

"On what?"

"How good you are."

"A challenge?"

"Quite possibly."

"I like a challenge."

"I know you do."

"So?"

"So, Joe might nap a little longer."

"So, I'm under time pressure too?"

"You do your best work under pressure."

"Funny, I was going to say that about you."

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"Wow. . .that was. . .great."

Abby suppressed a smile. She'd said the same thing to Luka herself just a few hours ago. "To the chef." She and Carter raised their glasses and Luka obliged them with a clink.

"Okay, Joe. Time for bed." Abby picked him up. "Say good night to Carter."

Carter waved at Joe who returned the gesture. "Bye-bye"

"Bye-bye, Joe." Carter smiled, watched Abby clean Joe's face and hands with one hand, balancing him on her hip, turning it into a game when he objected.

"I'll come up and say good-night." Luka smiled at them. 

"Okay."

Carter watched them walking up the stairs. "She's great with him."

"Yeah, she is."

"So. . .how are you, Luka?"

"I'm good." Carter cocked his head, gave him a look. He wanted to know. Luka shifted uncomfortably in his chair, crossed his legs, spoke quietly. "It was a tough year. . .with my father and Abby. . .but. . .life goes on. . .Sometimes you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other. You know that."

"Yeah. . .but it's not always easy." He imagined she hadn't been there for Luka at the time of his father's death any more than she'd been there for him when Gamma had died. She never could follow through. He couldn't help but wonder if Luka would be picking up the pieces every few years. Looking for the strength to put one foot in front of the other once again. He'd made the right decision the night he'd put the ring back in his pocket. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't do it. 

"No."

"It was bad, wasn't it? The relapse."

His eyes clouded over. "Yes. 

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"Me too. I didn't understand. . .too many things. And, I didn't want to hear it when you tried to tell me . . .I didn't want to think of her. . .like that. . .a drunk. . ." 

"Luka, it wasn't your fault. Then or now. She's an alcoholic."

He nodded. "Yeah, I understand what that means. . ._now_. I. . .I thought she was well."

"I'm sure she was. . .but it's not the kind of thing that ever goes away. Relapse is always a possibility"

"She just seemed. . .so strong."

"Yeah . . .addiction isn't easy. . .simple."

"No. . .I know that. . .I mean I'm a doctor. I knew a lot of things with my head. . .but Abby. . ."

"Was different?"

"Yeah."

"I couldn't do it."

"What?"

"I realized I couldn't live with the. . .risk. . .the risk I couldn't control. . ." Carter's eyes grew large. "I shouldn't have just said that."

"No. . .it's okay. It's not easy. . .to live with the risk."

"But you are."

"Yes. It's better than the alternative."

"The alternative?"

"Living without her."

Carter nodded. "I guess nothing is ever simple. Did she tell you?"

"What?"

"Kem and I. . .we've been trying to have another baby . . ."

"She did. That's great."

"Not. . .great. . ."

"Why?"

"It hasn't happened."

"Oh."

"It's been a year. I'd hoped. . .tried to convince her to come to Chicago - do some tests. . .but. . .she didn't want to do that."

"I see."

"I got checked out. . .I just wish she would. . .if there's a problem, there's things we could do."

"Why do you think she didn't want to?"

"I think she's afraid. . .unsure. . .It was so hard . .losing Joshua."

"It can be a scary thing. . .having a child. . .or not having a child."

"Yeah . . .but we've waited a long time to try again . . . and I just. . .I just think it's time to check things out."

"And she doesn't?"

"She wouldn't come. . .not for the opening and not for the tests."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"I know Abby had doubts. . .worries about having a baby. How did you two work it out?"

"I told her what I wanted, countered her fears as best I could, but in the end it was her decision. It's not something you can force."

"No. That's something that's hard for me. I want to . . .fix things. . .make things okay. . .for her and for me. You think you'll have another?"

"No. . .one's enough." It was clipped. Short. Final.

Carter nodded. "I can understand why you'd feel that way. . .with everything that happened."

Abby stood frozen on the stairs for a moment, fear cascading through her like ice water in her veins that Luka was going to agree with him. That even if she _could_. . .he wouldn't want to. . .because of _her_. . .what she had done. What she was. She couldn't stand it. . .couldn't stand to hear it. It was irrational. It was unreasonable. It was overwhelming. She spoke before he could. "He's ready to say good-night to you, Luka."

He called towards Abby, "Okay." Then to Carter, "Excuse me."

Abby went down and tried to make small talk till Luka returned, but she was unsettled, sullen. Carter, picking up on the change in mood, said his good-nights. Luka walked him to the door and came back to find Abby sitting on the sofa, looking at him. With _that _look.

"What?"

"You don't want any more children with me."

He felt like he'd just fallen down the rabbit hole. His forehead wrinkled. Was it just him or didn't she have a hysterectomy? "Abby. . .we _can't_ have any more children. Were you listening to my conversation?"

"No, just when I came down the stairs. . .I heard him ask, and I heard what you said. . .about one being enough."

"_And?"_

"_And_. . .you don't want any more children with me." 

"Are you telling me you want more children?"

"Yes. . .no. . .maybe. . .I don't know. . . but how can you just say _that?_. . .No, don't answer that. . .I _know_ how you can say that. . .It's because of. . .me. . . what I did. . .the relapse. . .isn't it?" 

What the hell was this about? "_Well_. . .it's because of a lot of things . . .First, we _can't_. . .Second, it's been a tough year. . .Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like it's an accusation. . .like I've offended you . . . or something. . ."

"I _know_ you wanted. . .a big. . .family. . . more children. . .and if. . .if I hadn't. . .if I wasn't . . ." 

So that was it. Unbelievable. "Oh, just stop it."

"What?"

"I am _not_ going to spend all my life having this discussion."

"What discussion?"

"The discussion about how I don't love you enough . . .if you don't believe it _now_ . . .well. . .just . . . .I'm done. I'm not talking to you about it when you're like this." 

"Luka. . ." That was it. He never did engage the crazy. That was what happened on the phone. When she had told him to get a flight out that very night. He wasn't encouraging what seemed irrational, but it had felt. . .like. . .something else. They'd been at cross purposes. He was trying to steady her, bring her back to reality - or what he thought was reality. Unfortunately, she _had_ been crazy. . .over the edge any way, and she hadn't been able to tell him why. Fear. It was making her crazy. Right now. 

"I'm serious. Just stop it." 

"You're right."

"What?"

"You're right. I'm being crazy and irrational. I just. . .when I heard you say that. . .I don't know . . . it. . ._hurt._ I know. . .it's nuts. . .isn't it? _I'm nuts_."

"Maybe a little. . .sometimes." Frustration and anger dissolved in wave of tenderness.

"You_ really_ don't want more children?"

"Maybe things happen for a reason."

"You mean my hysterectomy?"

"Yes, even that."

_Because I'm a terrible mother and wife, and you don't want more children with a drunk. Stop it Abby. Just. Stop. It_. "A reason? What reason would that be?"

He sat next to her, put his arm around her. "Well . . .it just seems between work. . .and Joe. . .and the program. . .that it's a lot. . .it's just a lot, Abby. It has nothing to do with what I feel for you. You're wonderful with Joe. . . and I love you . . .but our plates are pretty full . . and we _can't_ have more children. So, it seems like a waste of time to wish for it." 

"Well, we _could_. There are ways. . ."

"Does it really not feel right to you to have one? Or did you just think I'd want more?" 

"I don't know. I guess. . .I guess. . .I knew. . . know how much children mean to you. . ." 

"You mean a lot to me too."

"We never talked about it."

"What? More children?"

"No, my hysterectomy."

"No. We didn't."

"I felt. . .I felt like I let you down. . .us down."

"You didn't. Abby, I saw your chart. You could have died. There was nothing you could have done."

"I just. . .I feel. . ."

"What?"

"I don't _know._ . .I felt. . .I felt sad. . .and I just I couldn't tell you. I didn't want to make you more sad."

"I felt it too. . .the loss."

"Yes. . .the loss . . .of children we hadn't even ever conceived. . .or talked about or anything. . .but. . .they were gone. . ."

"I know."

"Well there was Joe. . .to be worried about. . . but after. . .when we got to bring him home. . .after we were home for a while I was sad . . .he'd be our only baby. . .I started to think. . .maybe some day . . .we'd. . .I don't know look at options. . ."

"Options?"

"A surrogate. . .or adoption - although I guess I've ruled that out . . ."

"I didn't know you felt that way. . .I was so happy . . . he was okay, Abby, that you were okay. . . it seemed like enough . . .to not lose you both . . .but that night you told me . . .and we didn't know if Joe would make it . . .it was tough . . ."

"You didn't tell me how bad he was . . .did you?"

"No."

"Why do we do that?"

"What?"

"Not say it. Why did we do that?"

"Some things are too hard to say . . .I guess."

"If something seems too hard to say. . .will you promise me something . . .?"

"What?"

"Will you say it any way?" 

"Is that what you're doing? Saying the hard things?"

"Yes, it's one of them."

"Alright." Luka sighed. "Abby, I would. . .I would love to see you pregnant again. . .with our baby. . .you were. . .so beautiful. . .but that can't happen. And, I. . .I don't need another baby. I just want us to take care of what we have. . .not lose what we have . . .worrying about what we don't. What do you want . .. really want. . .not because you think you have to for me?"

"Now?"

"Yes."

She paused to think, to really think. Not the knee jerk reaction of feeling inadequate . . .of wanting to please him . . .of trying to be what she imagined he'd want. What did she _want_? "What I really want. . .is you and Joe. . .and our life together ..."

"Then you have it." 


	46. Paper Moon

Paper Moon

A/N: Well, we are finally drawing near the close. This is the last chapter of its kind. I decided to write bookend chapters from Abby and Luka in first person POV, since that is how this began, to finish off the story, and there is an epilogue. Many, many thanks to those who took the time to read and to review. I have to say you've made it a pleasure to share my writing the vast majority of the time, and that has meant a lot to me. Also, many thanks to all the lovely ladies who have given of their time to beta read for me. All your input made it better.

Paper Moon

Janet and Abby walked along the river front, taking sips of hot coffee.

"Our first anniversary is coming up."

"Congratulations."

"I told him I just wanted a quiet family day. . .no gifts. . .just time together with Joe."

"I see. That sounds nice. Why no gifts?"

"I just. . .I couldn't stand the thought of him shopping for me. . .or reading those sappy cards. . . and thinking. . .how I'd let him down." The candle was gone. It had taken her awhile to notice because she hadn't been able to bring herself to look at it. By the time she did, it was gone. She didn't have to ask him why. She knew. What was worse was what it meant. What she feared it meant. His naiveté. His charming, sweet, boyish self. She'd made that bit grow-up too. Something he'd hung onto through all the other crap in his life. He was all man now. By necessity. And it made her sad. The idea of him shopping for her now. It was too much. She couldn't bear the thought.

"You think that's what he would be thinking?"

"I don't know. . .It just felt wrong. . ."

"For him to get you something on your first anniversary?"

"All things considered? Yes."

"You have to stop beating yourself up. You do know that? How's he going to let it go, if you can't?"

"I mostly can. . .we mostly can. . .it just feels like certain days. . .are going to be land mines. . .and I. . ."

"What?"

"I don't know. I'm just. . .happy that we have an anniversary to celebrate . . .and I don't want. . .I don't want expectation. . .or trying to get it right . . . to make it harder for either of us. I almost ruined it. And we both know it."

"Almost is the key word, Abby. You're doing the work and from what you say it sounds like both of you are putting in the effort."

"I know that. . .I know. . .but the thing is. . .I knew I was screwing up, by drinking. I knew it, and I did it anyway. He didn't know he was hurting me. There's a difference."

"And you're working on your part. That's what you can do, all you can do. Accept it, Abby. What you can't change, you have to accept."

"I know. Sometimes I think he's better at it than I am."

"Is he?"

"Yes. I'm not saying it never bothers him. That it doesn't hurt. . .the relapse. . .everything. . .but . . ."

"But?"

"I never expected to have what I have. . .what I almost lost. . .and if it was hard to feel like I deserve it before. . .it's really hard since. . ."

"Still?"

"Still."

"That's a red flag, Abby. You have to forgive yourself otherwise it's a set up for failure."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Yes. What do you need?"

"Faith. . . that a higher power can remove my shortcomings if I do my part. I'm trying. When I went to Croatia . . . it was to turn my life over . . . to whatever was going to happen. . . to whatever I was going to find there . . .to have it not be about what I wanted, but more than that . . .to have the program . . .and love . . .show me the way I was supposed to go. I really felt like . . . the right thing was for Luka and Joe and me to be a family. . .not _just_ for me. . .for us. So, now . . .working on my inventory. . .and sharing things with you. . .it's _so_ humbling. . . there's so much. . .junk."

"It's meant to be humbling, and grounding, but there's a way to move beyond it."

"I know. I mean. . .I've done it. . .before, or I thought I had. It's just. . .it's a hard thing to be doing. . ._again_ . . .and for me to feel like I deserve what I have at the same time. Last time I did it, I didn't have much. Less guilt. . .less shame that way."

"Grace."

"Grace?"

"Some things are just gifts, Abby. You're doing the work, if you keep doing it - you can change things - not the past - but for your present and future, but maybe for now . . .maybe you just have to take some things in your life as a gift, and be grateful instead of ashamed."

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

One year. One year ago today. They'd been married. It seemed like yesterday. It seemed like forever. She had the day she'd asked for. Quiet. With Luka and Joe. After dinner, she brought out his gift. He looked at her.

"Abby. You said no gifts."

"I said I didn't want you to get me a gift."

"It's not fair."

"I know. Open it."

He sighed and tore the wrapping paper off. It was framed, beautiful writing. . .the poem. . .the poem she had spoken at their wedding. "It's. . .it's great. Thank you. I never knew it all. . .I love it."

"I know . . .I know . . .that I didn't always do a good job of remembering this. . .doing this. . .but. . .it's a new year. . .and I think. . .I know I can do better. . .I want to. . ."

"We'll both do better." He leaned over to kiss her, and Joe grabbed the paper and ribbon. "I promise to be a better listener. . .right after this. . ."

"After what?"

He got up and crossed the room, opened a drawer and took out a wrapped box.

"Luka. . ."

"I know. . .I know. . .I didn't buy it. . .just. . .just open it. . ._please_. . ."

She frowned, but obliged him. A Bible. She looked at him.

"It was my father's." He moved closer, opened the cover. "It's got. . .it's got our family tree here. . .my grandparents' names and my great-grandparents' and my great-great grandparents'. It's in Croatian. I don't expect you to read it or anything. . .I was thinking for a long time about what to get you. . .paper. . .kind of a tough one. . .and I realized. . . what I really want to give you, Abby. . .is faith. . .and family, and that's what this is. . .to me. My mother wrote in her family names here. . .when they got married. . .and this passage. . .it was one of her favorites."

"What does it say?" She turned the book toward him.

He spoke slowly, carefully. To her. "It's from the Book of Ruth. It says. . .'Do not ask me to abandon or forsake you. For wherever you go I will go, wherever you lodge I will lodge, your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Wherever you die I will die, and there be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me.'"

She said nothing. She just sat and stared at it, fingered it. Your family shall be my family. Your faith. . .my faith. . .

"Abby? Are you disappointed? Angry?"

"No. . .no. . .of course not." She shook her head slowly, turned the pages. . . un-readable. . .un-knowable. It was well worn. It was faith. Luka's, his father's, Joe's grandfather's. Luka's family. Luka's faith. And he was giving them to her. She had only to accept them. . .or not. . .She'd never really had much of either. Till now. Till him. Them.

She smiled at him, took a deep breath, eyes full. "Have you. . .have you ever wanted something _so much_ . . . and when you got it. . .it was more than you had ever hoped it would be?"

He nodded, looked her in the eyes. "Yes."

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He found her sitting at her dresser, looking down.

"Joe's asleep. What are you doing?"

She held a box in her hands. "Your mother's pearls. I was just . . .looking at them . . .remembering."

"Joe liked the photo album. . . You were a beautiful bride, Abby."

She took a deep breath. Gifts. Grace. Faith. Hope. Love. Family. No more doubting. No more fear. It was her life. She had it. She must deserve it. "I loved our wedding."

"Me too."

"It was crazy. But I loved it."

"Crazy's not all bad."

She shook her head.

He looked at her, a long, steady stare. "Put them on. Put them on for me."

"The pearls?"

"Yes. . .just the pearls. . ."

"Is that a Croatian custom too?"

"If it's not, it should be."

She smiled. "It should be."

"It could be _our_ custom."

"You might regret that in twenty years."

He smiled. "Or not. . ."

Fingertips, fingers, hands, lips, mouths, arms, legs, words, silence, English, Croatian, stillness, movement, a breath, a whisper, a smile, a laugh, a dance, not the first time, not the last time.

"I Carry Your Heart with Me'

E.E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root and bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)


	47. Tightrope Walker

Tight-Rope Walker

It's been a little more than five years since I became a mother, a little more than four years since I became a wife, and a little more than three years since I've been sober. Yeah for me.

Balance. That's the key. Work and Family. The Present and the Future. Work and Fun. Luka and Joe. A balancing act. Some days I feel like I have it all figured out, other days I'm teetering and about to take the plunge. I guess the Program is my pole, there to steady me. But if you lean too much your pole, it sure as hell is not going to stop your fall. It's up to you to hang onto it. Sometimes more tightly than others. And don't look down. You can't look down. No fear. Faith. In the end, I did, I adopted his God. Oh not the God of the Catholic Church. We don't do the whole religion thing, but the God that's there to help pick us up when we fall. He told me how he lost his faith, or at least misplaced it for a while, and how it was such a struggle to find it, really find it again. The Bishop only pointed it out to him, what was missing, what he needed. It's not something you can give to someone else. I reminded him he'd tried on our first anniversary. He corrected me.

"No, I told you I _wanted_ to give it to you. That's different."

I guess it is. Anyway, he found it again, in Africa, about to die. When he was the last one, and didn't want to die alone. So, he prayed. Not for his life. Not so that he wouldn't die, but so he wouldn't be alone if he did. And he found he wasn't. He'd come back to Chicago convinced he was going to do something with his life. That it had to have purpose. He first thought that would be in Africa. Then he thought it would be taking care of Sam and Alex. Then I turned up, and he had known. If that was God, if it's God that made me drive over there that night, and stand in front of him, and make love with him, and conceive Joe. Well then, how bad can He be? It's a nice thought any way. The God of love and second chances.

I made it through the steps. Actually, I've made it through more than once. Made my amends where I could. Sam and I ended up having a good talk, clearing the air. I had to reassure her that it wasn't about making what I had done okay with her so much as my taking responsibility for it - and doing the work so that it never happened again. And with Neela. I had hit below the belt. Drunks are good at that. Of course by the time I made my formal amends, she had long ago forgiven and forgotten. I spent time thinking about Kevin Moretti. I have no idea what I did. I mean, what my part was in getting to his apartment. I have no idea if I was part of the reason he left County. The only way to know would have been to ask. To admit my part. But, I couldn't do it. Not to Luka. There is the clause about not making direct amends when it would hurt others. I knew it would. I couldn't do it behind his back. I couldn't tell him I was going to contact Moretti. I couldn't bring him back to the pain. Not when we'd moved on. Were trying to move forward. Trying so hard. Whatever happened, Kevin was an adult. He made choices too. So, that's part of what I have to live with, and let go of. Balance. I can't forget what happened, what _can_ happen because it can _never _happen again. But I can't hold onto it either. Wearing the 'A 'on my chest - well, that doesn't work either. I tried it for a while that first year, especially around the anniversary of . . . everything. It didn't work so well. Not for me, and honestly not for Luka either. After that, I took it off and put it away. I had to. Not just for myself, but for all of us. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Balance. Gratitude. Faith. Hope. Love.

Joe is amazing. Bright. We took him to his first day of kindergarten just last week. I cried. Luka smiled and bought us hot fudge sundaes when it was all over. He loves school. Can you imagine? I couldn't. I guess kindergarten isn't so bad.

Me a mother. Someone's mother. I think I've read every parenting book known to man. Luka just looks at me. Looks at the cover. And rolls his eyes.

"What? You know everything there is to being a parent?"

"No. But if I wanted, I could write a book about it, Be the Best Parent Ever by Dr. Luka Kovac, and people would buy it."

"Are you saying I'm gullible?

"No. I'm saying you're over-read. You're a good mother. You have good instincts."

"You really think so?"

"Yes."

He thinks I'm a good mother. It's a gift every time he tells me. I smiled at him, happy, proud, content. "What would your book say?"

"Shortest parenting book ever."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Well . . .?"

"Just love them."

I shook my head, no. "Technique matters. Tools. Tools are good."

"Tools are good. Are you almost done?"

"Done?"

"Reading."

"Why?"

"Because I need to do research for the other book I want to write.

"And what book would that be?

"100 Ways to Please Your Wife."

"Only a hundred?"

"If you want more than a hundred, then you'll have to devote more time to helping me with my research." He tossed my book aside.

Mmmmm. Where was I? Oh yes. Joe. Luka and Joe. It's the best thing in the world watching them. I can't believe I almost didn't do this. Unimaginable. Luka taught him to swim, they've been kicking a soccer ball at each other. . .forever. Sweet. Devoted. I'm definitely the disciplinarian, which is why I need all the books. Dad is such a softie.

My father called. He called out of the blue. The Autumn after everything. The anniversary of my fall. A very, very hard time. My father calls.

"Can I see you?"

I was quiet. For a long time.

"Maggie gave me your number. It's important. Please."

I looked at my husband who was watching my face. I mouthed 'my father,' and he shrugged, looked at me. I knew what it meant. It was up to me. He walked over, and he took my hand, and I knew I could do it. So I said it. "Yes."

We met for coffee. I wasn't ready to invite him to my home. My family. He was sitting waiting for me. With two cups on the table. Looking at me.

"Thanks for coming."

His voice was raspy. He looked like hell.

"Sure."

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, Abby."

"Yeah." The coffee was bitter.

"I'm dying."

"I know."

He only showed a little surprise. "You're the doctor."

"Yes. I tried to tell you. . .you needed. . ."

"I know."

"Do you . . .do you have family to help you?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"I'm glad things turned out good for you, Abby."

A laugh. A bitter, hard laugh, which surprised even me came out before I could stop it. "It's been. . . hard."

He looked at me, confused.

"I'm an alcoholic. I relapsed a year ago. I almost. . .lost. ..everything. I have this wonderful life. I love my job. I have a great husband who's an amazing father. And. . .I. . ."

He said nothing, drank his coffee, looked at his hands. That's it. He couldn't look at me. Couldn't even look at me.

It was then that I realized he had nothing. He had nothing to give me. Then or now. Not because he didn't want to. He just didn't have it. He watched Joe Frazier, admired him, because he was everything Eddie wasn't. A fighter. There was no fight in this man in front of me. _I am_ like my mother. A fighter. And Luka is nothing like you. And it just doesn't matter any more. I don't have time or energy to resent you. I have more important things in my life. Things to do. Things to be other than the little girl you walked away from. It's just not worth it to hang onto this. To wish you were different. That you had been different.

"I forgive you. I forgive you for leaving all those years ago. I forgive you for finding me and leaving again when it was too hard. I hope you have an easy death with the people who love you. I have to get back to my family. If you'd like to meet your grandson, we'll be in the park around the corner in two hours. Otherwise, take care of yourself, Eddie."

He came to the park and pushed Joe in the swing. Said a few things to Luka and me. Inconsequential things. He hugged me when he left. I never saw him again.

Maggie came to see us the year after my recovery, and every year since for an annual visitation. Gave us space and then descended. I thought she was going to fall at Luka's feet and kiss them that first time. For not leaving me. For staying. For loving her little girl. . .no matter what. She makes it clear; she loves the man. I'd be worried about the competition if someone who liked to cook, clean and knit for him was what he was after in life. And, she loves Joe. They are very funny together. Maggie likes to take him on these secret adventures. They often come back wearing funny hats. Don't ask. She makes a good grandmother. Oh, and she loves me too. We. . .we really have bonded after everything. I do. . .I understand more. Understand how she could love me and not get well. It wasn't about me. It was about her. It wasn't about her not loving me, or me not being good enough any more than what happened was about me not loving Joe. . .or him. . .not. . .of course not. . . that's the thing. You can see it so clearly from this distance. from the other side. But I know. . ._I know._. .if I blow it again, he'll wonder. He'll always wonder how I _could_. . _.if_ I loved him. There's a reason why they call some thoughts sobering. They are. They really are.

Eric came last year for a visit. We talk every week. I have space now for him. Not to take over, but to be in my life. He's still largely lost. He's on his meds, but he can't seem to find a fit in his life. Looking. . .still looking for a job that works, someone to love, a home that feels right. I want to help more than I have, more than I can.

"You can't fix it for him, Abby. Just love him."

So Luka. And he's right. So, I do. I try.

"Believe that some day he'll have what you want for him."

That was Luka's advice.

"Is that what you did with me?"

"Yes. Partly. Have faith. That's all you can do. That and don't be co-dependent."

"God, no."

"Janet complimented me the other day."

"On what?"

"I don't know exactly my non-co-dependentness? My un-co-dependentness? My anti-co-dependentness? What's the term?"

"I think it's called healthy, Luka."

"That's not fun."

"No fun?"

"No, there's all these good phrases and terms. . .there must be a better one - go look it up."

"Don't be such a smart ass."

"I don't think that's it."

"I think in your case, it is."

The pillow that was launched at my head missed by a mile. At least he's good at soccer. Joe's got to rely on me for ball throwing skills.

He's still goofy. And he's wise too. Maybe going through the worst in life does make you wise. There has to be some benefit doesn't there? I guess if you're very lucky you're both wise and goofy. Or you're married to someone who is.

Everything we have came out of some sort of destruction. Or that's how it feels sometimes. It was like finding the house of your dreams and moving in and then for some reason you torch it in the middle of the night. It's not even that someone else burned it down. You're the arsonist. You torched it because you really didn't believe you deserved to live in it. And, it's gone. It's gone because . . .because while you knew he was worth the risk, you didn't believe that you were. There's nothing you can do but rebuild. Yourself and your house. So that's what I did. We did. We rebuilt. It's sad, to not have that house any more. The house you thought you'd live in the rest of your life. But, I guess the trade-off is the new one is custom made, and you put in the features you want. That's it, that's what we did, what we're still doing. Building. Out of the wreckage. It's a beautiful house, quirky and warm. Now. . .now I know. . .I believe. . . we're both worth the risk. And, I wouldn't live anywhere else.


	48. The Alchemist

The Alchemist

A/N: As we wind down, I want to offer special thanks to the women who have beta read, especially the relapse chapters. To Alexis and Heather who gave me lots of positive feedback and pointed out things that needed pointing out. To Nicole and Cheryl who opened their hearts and lives and gave me insights I wouldn't have had without their time and talent. And to Claudia who gets the roughest, rough drafts any beta could be inflicted with, who reads each chapter almost as many times as I do, and does the fine tooth comb with me, from start to finish, every single chapter, thank you, thank you. Your help and friendship have been invaluable to me. Thank you all!

And to the readers and reviewers, as I've said it really does mean a lot to me that the story has resonated with so many of you, and that you've enjoyed it. Looking at my word count, I guess I have written a novel! The thing that surprised me looking back, for not knowing where this was going when I began, it does all fit together. I just hope Zabel knows what he's doing – and can give us the ending this couple – and their devoted and patient fans – so richly deserve. What Califoniagirl has joined together let Zabel not put asunder. There still is an epilogue to follow.

Here's Luka . . .

The Alchemist

The first year. . .after. . . was the hardest. Especially that Fall. Everything was stirred up. As if the wind, had blown up the dust. . .again.

"I've got a meeting tonight."

"You've had a meeting every night this week. We've hardly seen you."

"I know. I'm sorry. I feel. . . I don't feel right in my skin. . .I'm just trying to get through. . .everything. I'm sorry. I know it's hard for you too."

I didn't know what to say. It was, but I'd promised myself not to keep dredging it up. I'd vowed, but it was hard. "Are you. . . you're not. . .you haven't. . .are you feeling like you want to drink?" It made my stomach hurt, my heart ache, to think it, to ask it.

She stared at me. "I. . . I'm feeling like I need meetings and time with my sponsor. . . to try to keep my head on straight. . .but. . . the thing is. . . sometimes it's really hard to feel. . .what I feel. . .to think . . . what I think . . .that's when I'm at risk. . .I know it's not easy for you either. . .now. I know that, and I'm trying. What do you need?"

"To not do this. . .separate." There was this day. There was this day coming that would mark it as a year since she'd. . .and we shouldn't. We just shouldn't do that alone.

She shook her head. Took a deep breath. "Okay. . .I just want to feel worth being with. . . It's so hard. My dad, your dad. . .what happened. . ."

I hadn't been back to Al-Anon since Croatia, but in that moment, it seemed like a good idea. "Maybe I. . .maybe I'll get a sitter for Joe tonight and go to a meeting myself. I feel like we're clinging by our teeth."

"Hanging."

"Whatever. Is it going to stop?"

"Yes. . .yes it will get better. It's been better, it will be again. . .We have to believe that." She'd wrapped her arms around me then.

"Yeah."

"You hurt."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"Then don't shut me out." Her hair in my hands, her smell, her touch.

She looked up at me. "I'm not trying to shut you out. I'm trying to stay well. I want to do this with you. I do. I just have to learn. . .how. I've never done this _with_ any one before. You must be thinking about your father a lot now. Is there something I can do to help you?"

It didn't take long to know. I'd been thinking about it. "I want to go back. Can we go to Croatia for Christmas?"

Another deep breath. "Yes."

So we did. We made it through the land mines, even if they hurt. We made it through. Sometimes that's all you can do. Tough it out. Persevere. We went to Croatia even though we could only take a week off. We attended Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve with my family. I could feel the tension in her. I think there were moments when she wanted to get up and run out. But she didn't. She stayed. And she held my hand. She did it for me. That's when I understood. It was as clear as that moment in Africa when I thought I was going to die alone. It didn't matter that much to me at that point. Living seemed a misery in and of itself. But I had looked into the sky, into the light, and I knew. I knew I could have help, if I asked for it. Help to live or help to die - whatever it would be. That I wouldn't be alone which was all I wanted in that moment, not to be alone. And I felt . . .peace, and I lived. I had wanted life to have a purpose again after that. To mean something. I tried to find that purpose, but nothing fit - until Abby. Abby and the baby. Abby and Joe. I thought. . .I thought after we almost lost him. . .and her. . .and after Ames and everything. I thought. . .that the wedding was it. . .the last hurdle. We were home free. I was so wrong. So blind. It was just the beginning. I thought they were gifts. But they weren't. Gifts are free - no work required. They weren't gifts, they were my work. My life's work. They were what I was to _do_, not what I was to have. I would have to find more in me than I thought I had. More faith, more strength, more courage, more raw determination, more love - more everything. But I wouldn't have to do it alone. If I asked, I would have help. I didn't have to live alone any more than I had to die alone. It wasn't enough to just know what the steps were. I had to work them too. I had to turn my life over to a plan that was not my own. I had my own share of defects. It wasn't like she had cornered the market on them. I had to believe. Every day. In God. In myself. In her. I couldn't live in fear any more than she could. Or anger. Or doubt. Or blame. Or resentment. Or I could. But I didn't want to.

I hadn't had the strength to keep my vows to Danijela. Or to stay and live with the destruction once they were gone. I was too young. But I had no excuses any more. If I lost my family this time, it wouldn't be to a war. Unless it was to the war each of us had waged too long in ourselves. I couldn't win her battle for her, but I could win my own this time. A victim of fate no more. If I chose. If I fought. If I believed. I looked down at her as we stood, as the choir sang, and the procession left the church, and she looked up at me with eyes. . .that told me the fight would be worth it. That whatever I was risking there were bigger risks in life. There was the risk of never seeing that look again. Feeling her hand. Watching her try. It shifted in that moment. The final shift. The last piece in a puzzle that had taken me a more than a year of struggle to complete. Nothing worthwhile comes without pain.

I started working the steps. In my own way. The meetings weren't really for me, but Janet was an ear, so was Abby. And I've thought about them all, even if I haven't managed to do them all. It makes me appreciate her work more, her struggle. Amends is not easy. It's not even easy thinking about all the people I owe them to in my life. I went to Confession. Somehow it's easier to make amends to God than to other human beings. Although, there have been times I've spoken to someone, and I could see what it meant to them. Of course other times, they look at me like I must be playing some sort of game. Still, it gives me perspective. On her. On life. On myself. On my work. On forgiveness.

We went back to Croatia the following summer for a month. Since then we've been back every year. It works. The more time goes by, the more they trust each other, Niko and Abby. I think she enjoys it in a lot of ways. I've watched her and Ana get closer. And she's great with Marika and Ante. We took Joe sailing, swimming in the sea. He can speak some Croatian and understands even more than he speaks. Abby knows a few key phrases and, of course, she can swear in it. It's good to have my brother in my life, to watch his children grow. To know him again. Both families. Or maybe it's becoming one family.

Two years ago, I saw Kevin Moretti. I was downtown. I had a meeting. And there he was across the street. I don't know why I noticed him, or how, but I did. He was leaving a restaurant, and I followed him. I followed him for blocks. Every muscle in my body, tight. Fight. . .or flight. My stomach felt sick. And then, I stopped. I just stopped. What would be the point? What could I possibly say or do that would change any of it? I could accuse him of all kinds of things only to. . .hear things I wouldn't want to hear. . .didn't need to hear. I could hurt him. But? So? What did it change? Serenity. It's harder to be serene in some moments than in others. But I stopped. He disappeared into the crowd. I picked my son up at school and took him to the park. I came home, and my wife had cooked dinner. That wouldn't be unusual, except it's Abby, and when she tries to make a family dinner, it always looks like a small bomb has been detonated in the kitchen. But, I know she does it because she loves us, and she's trying. So, whatever it is. . .however it's been. . .prepared. . .it's the best meal I've ever eaten, no matter how it tastes, and no matter how long it takes me to clean the kitchen after. I never told her I saw him, but I think she would have been proud of me. I think she would have been very proud.

We bought a house last year. Finally, a yard for Joe. So we can kick the ball. So she can play catch with him. We looked forever. There was always something wrong.

"Abby. . .what was wrong with that one? It had three bedrooms, a nice yard."

"I know. . .I know. . .just. . .I'll know it when I see it."

And she did. Funky, modern, bright, a big beautiful yard with room for a garden. . .a big bathtub. . .a fireplace. It was worth the wait. It felt like home from the day we moved in. I carried her across the threshold with Joe hanging onto my back. We ate pizza on a blanket in the living room and camped out that first night. Joe loved it. I think he would have liked it best if we'd never moved the furniture in. But we did. So to make it up to him, I took him and Abby camping. I'm not sure I can do justice to the image of Abby camping, but in the end, she was a good sport. Joe caught a fish with some help from me. I did the cooking. She was in charge of the s'mores. It all worked out, as most things do.

On our fifth anniversary, we celebrated two ways. First, we planted a tree in our back yard. Wood. Growth. Permanence. And then we went to Hawaii. Just the two of us. Finally. Our honeymoon. Long over due. I talked her into a week.

"He'll survive." I told her. But she looked at me with those big brown eyes like she wasn't quite sure. Or maybe that she wasn't sure she would. Survive. A week away from him. But they did, they both did.

So. . .finally we celebrated our marriage. . .on the beach, floating in warm water, making love any time of the day or night the mood struck us. Sleeping naked because we didn't have to worry about a night time visit from Joe. No interruptions. Nothing but the two of us. She wore a bikini for me. . .but no martinis were involved. One day, we took a long hike to a secluded beach. Stretched our bodies in the warm sand. Watched the water for a long time. Said nothing. Didn't need to. Finally, she looked at me and spoke.

"Have you ever made love in the ocean?"

"No. You?"

"No." A slow, sexy, smile.

I think I beat her to the water, but not by much. It was very wet, quite salty, technically challenging at times, waves, surf. . .but wonderful.

The night of our fifth anniversary, when she came to me wearing nothing but her pearls, her eyes shining, her smile - glowing at me the way she did on the day I married her. . .beautiful. . .my bride. . . my wife, I knew she was both my work _and_ my gift. And always would be.


	49. Epilogue: And There Too

It's been a great ride. Thank you all.

Epilogue:

And There Too

His father's eyes. He had his father's eyes. And his grandfather's. Abby felt her own fill with tears. She brushed an offending drop away with her hand and bounced the little boy on her knee. Two years old.

"This was your father's favorite book when he was your age, Luke, Goodnight Gorilla. It doesn't get better than this." She opened the book and began to tell the story.

Joe sat watching her. She didn't look well, but she'd made the trip to California anyway. To see Luke on his birthday. He watched them intently, smiling, but sad.

Long after Luke was in bed, they sat and talked.

"You should move out here. The weather is better."

"I don't want to move. All my friends are in Chicago. It's my home."

"Are you. . .are you seeing anyone?"

"Do you mean. . .am I dating?"

"Yes."

"I'm too old for that."

"You are not."

"Not interested."

"It's been two years, Mom. He'd have wanted you to."

"Do you think so?"

"Of course. You would have wanted him to."

Abby smiled. "Like hell."

"That's not true."

"I'm. . .happy. And. . .anyway, no one compares. Besides. . ." Tell him. You came here to see Luke, and to tell him. The final price for the drinking, even after all those years clean, dry, sober. She had done it. They had done it. Whenever she had heard the siren call of booze, she'd remembered his eyes. That night. When she had told him. The pain. What they had almost lost. Aversion therapy had nothing on it. Still, there were things you couldn't undo. You had to live with. The last tab to be paid. Liver Cancer. The odds were infinitesimal. Just her luck. Still, what had been the odds of conceiving Joe that first night? Or of finding Luka at all? Or having what they had. Of being married 30 years. Of having it not be long enough? Sometimes beating the odds cut both ways. If that was the deal, she wouldn't change a thing.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm good. How about you? How are you?"

"We tinkered a little with the meds. I'm good. I'm really good. But you already know that because I know you talk to Heather behind my back."

"What? Just girl talk."

"Yeah. He looks a lot like him, doesn't he?"

"More than you did. All that black hair, and the eyes . . ."

"Yeah. I miss him too."

"I know you do. Listen, I've got to get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" Abby stood, kissed her son on the top of his head and headed for the guest room.

She lay in the bed. Ready for sleep. Eager for it. Hoping it would be a night when he would come. Her eyes grew heavy and closed.

Luka's voice was soft next to her. Young. He was always young in her dreams. But then again, so was she. "He looks good."

"He does, doesn't he?"

"He's happy."

"I think he is. Our son. He made it."

"You didn't tell him you're sick."

"I will."

"You really don't want to move out here? Be with them?"

"No. I want to be at home with our friends. In our house. In our bed. That's where I want to be."

He nodded. "People taking care of you?"

"Are you kidding? I have an army of old Croatian women looking after Dr. Luka's widow. Sometimes I think you did all that volunteer work just so I'd be harassed long after your death."

"Taken care of."

"Taken care of."

"Good."

"Why didn't you just stay and do it yourself?"

"Because you had to know."

"Know what?"

"That you could do it alone. And Joe still needed you."

"He needed you too."

"You've been enough."

Abby sighed. "Still. . .you should have stayed with me."

"I did. I am. Aren't I here now?"

"Yes, but I never know. Every night, I hope, and I never know."

"Hope's all you need."

"Really? You're sure God's not going to keep me out?"

"I've been putting in a good word for you."

"I'll need it."

Luka smiled. She caught her breath, whispered to him. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you too."

"Really? You can miss people in heaven?"

"Under certain circumstances."

Her turn to smile. "Will he be okay?"

"Joe?"

"Yes."

"I think so."

"You don't know?"

"I'm dead, not all-knowing. Some of it's up to him. But you know, sometimes the thing you are most afraid of happens, and you find out you can get through it any way. Be happy in the end. Find love. You know that, Abby."

She took his hand. "You'll be with me. Won't you? At the end?"

"I've always been with you. You just forget sometimes. Oh by the way, I like the sweater you knitted for Luke. Nice blue."

"It works with the eyes. Just following Maggie's advice."

"Yes?"

"I told you. The last thing she told me - knit don't drink, Abby. Knit."

"Good advice."

"I think so."

They smiled at each other then. And he bent his head to kiss her, love her.

The mornings were the hardest. After the dreams.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Joe sat holding his mother's hand. Her eyes were closed, her breathing was shallow, light. It was early morning and everything about the day was crisp. The family wedding picture sat by her bed. . .their bed. It had been there as long as he could remember. She'd packed a box for him. Had given it to him two days ago when she was awake. Asked him to keep them or give them away to people he loved. Special things. A snowglobe, a compass, her pearls, the cross that had saved his father's life in Africa, the family Bible, diamond earrings, a silver circle on a chain, jewelry from Croatia. . .trinkets from her life with his father. That was the one blessing in all of this. They would be together again. He had been so lucky to have them in his life for as long as he had. They had got him through so much, and each other. They had taught him what it meant to love someone. No matter what. For who they were, and not to worry so much about what they weren't. He could only hope to pass that on to Luke. If only his father had had the chance to see him. That was maybe the one regret. Just a month. Just a month too late or too soon. It was so sudden. Too fast. No warning. His heart just gave out one day. Massive MI. Somehow it was fitting. He had always been all heart. His father. Dad. Tata. They didn't even get the chance to say good-bye. His mother had always said that he would have wanted it that way. That it would have been too hard for him to say good-bye to them.

Her breathing was slow, irregular.

"It won't be long, Joe." Neela's voice was crisp and light. The room was getting brighter, winter sun.

Her eyes opened then. He moved in close. She looked into her son's eyes, managed to curve her lips into a hint of a smile, and then they closed. He squeezed her hand. "It's okay, Mom. Everything is okay. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I love you." He stroked her hair. And then, everything in the room was still. . .quiet. He sat holding her hand for a long time.

There was the most beautiful light she'd ever seen. And music, such music. Then she saw them, and there was nothing to feel but joy. She could see them.

His eyes.


End file.
